Special Delivery
by Rennie1265
Summary: A story written for the Secret Santa challenge at TheBlackPearlSails writing group on Yahoo. A happy story, no angst or drama, just for the sheer enjoyment of a perfect day and the following days of Christmas.
1. A Perfect Day

**Pirates of the Caribbean, Secret Santa 2004**

Merry Christmas, Ophelia. You requested something with Jack and hinted at Norrie. By your command.

This is a sunny tale that belongs somewhere after the Kettle of Hawks story line. I wanted to have some sailors enjoy a perfect day just for the sheer joy of it. No angst, no hurt, no drama, no mayhem.

Disclaimer: the usual. Don't own, belongs to the Mouse. No infringement intended, no profit made.

_**Special Delivery **_

It was a perfect day.

Absolutely.

Indubitably.

Without question.

Perfect.

The sun blazed brilliantly white gold, the sky a deep azure vault with towering white castles building over the islands beyond the horizon. Even the wind gods obliged with a fine strong breeze that let the Pearl race, slicing through the white caps and sending plumes of spray back along her dark sides. The sea itself was in a merry mood, vivid shades of jade, turquoise and lapis gleaming lushly around the great ship's hull as Poseidon's silver-sided children gambolled in her bow wave, their clicking laughter sounding back to the ship's master and crew.

Jack braced his arms on the rail and laughed for the pure elation of it all, enjoying the gift of such a day with his entire being, at one with his ship. The crew members nearby smiled indulgently at the sight of the slender man, shirtless and bronzed, the wild black hair snapping and tangling in the breeze, braids and trinkets whipping about freely. Gibbs grinned as he looked back at Anamaria and raised his flask for a sip to honour the day. She rolled her eyes at him, then relaxed and let her own smile appear, dimples replacing her customary scowl as she guided the Pearl.

"Sail ho!"

"Where away?" Jack shouted back, watching for the lookout to point to the target. Gibbs trotted up, opening his spyglass as he approached the rail and handing it to his captain

Jack peered through the eyepiece but was unable to glimpse the sails indicated.

"It's small, Captain, about four points abaft the larboard beam and out quite a ways," the lookout hailed the deck a second time.

Jack tried again then he thrust the glass through his sash and swung up into the rigging, climbing agilely up to the lower yard. Settling himself comfortably, Jack used his glass once more and sighted the sails in question.

An elegant sloop, small enough to be handled by a lone sailor, was tearing along on an intercepting course to the Pearl, an impressive spread of canvas bleached white under the tropic sun. Whoever was at her tiller knew his business, Jack thought to himself as he admired the clean lines of the little vessel racing toward them, wondering about the identity of the sailor. The Pearl was known throughout the Caribbees and beyond and was unmistakable with her black hull and smoke-dark sails; few would be so bold as to approach her in this manner.

Jack's expression turned mischievous, why "not" make a race out of it? After all, the winds were fresh, there were no pressing concerns for him today, no navies out to capture him or anything else. He had not had the chance for such joyous sport with his Pearl for many a dreary year and here was the opportune moment handed to him.

"Gibbs! Anamaria! Come about so that we are matching the same course to that sloop and make full sail. We're going to have us a race!"

They looked at each other then up at Jack perched along the yard above them.

"Get a move on, you scabrous dogs!"

Gibbs grinned broadly, his eyes alight and his whiskers bristling, even more badger-like than usual as he bellowed orders to the crew. Anamaria brought the Pearl's head around until they matched the course of the sloop and felt the ship respond under her hands as more sails were unfurled and trimmed. Under her feet, she could feel the hull surge as the speed increased, the sheer power she controlled under her hands making her laugh aloud in delight.

Jack watched through the glass as the sloop responded to his challenge; her fore and aft rig allowed her to sail closer to the wind than the square-rigged Black Pearl, giving the little ship an edge. The sloop's course altered to take up the gauntlet and her sails billowed out even more splendidly as the small jib was exchanged for a larger one and she really began to fly, heeled over so that her hull cut sleekly through the waves. Every scrap of wind was used by the master seaman on the other vessel, employing the weather gauge to the utmost.

They ran like this for over an hour before Jack's curiosity got the better of him. He had come down from the yard earlier as the sloop drew nearer to his Pearl. He wanted to discover the identity of the man who sailed her and offer him a drink of rum in congratulation. Jack admitted privately that he also wanted to hear the reason he was being chased today.

He ordered sails reduced to slow the Pearl enough so that he could hail the other vessel. As the sloop drew nearer, Jack used his spyglass for a closer look at her. The hull was a dark blue with a gilt strake just below the gunwale, very elegant with her cabin superstructure in rich mahogany and white-painted trim, polished brightwork mirroring the sun. He could make out the gilt scroll work at her bow but the man at the helm was hidden for the moment. In a jaunty move, the sloop pulled ahead slightly of the Pearl, declaring she had won their race, and then eased back to match speeds with her, allowing Jack to hail the other, from his perch back up in the shrouds.

"Ahoy there, mate! Who might you be and what brings you to the Black Pearl on such a fine day as this?" Jack shouted over, using his hands in lieu of a speaking trumpet.

Instead of hailing back, the man waved at Jack, running up a line of signal flags that made Gibbs take sudden notice.

"Those be Royal Navy signals, Jack," Gibbs exclaimed in some surprise. They had seen neither identifying flags nor marks on the sloop and had yet to have a clear view of her stern.

"I know, Gibbs, I recognize them too," Jack answered, intrigued now more than ever. Even with the spyglass, he had only been able to get glimpses of a dark-haired man in a billowing white shirt over in the sloop's cockpit, mostly hidden by the boom and mainsail.

"He's asking to meet with us."

"Aye, Josh. All right, we'll see what the fellow wants of us. Anamaria, come about and bring us in irons," Jack called over to the woman at the helm. She shook her head but hauled the wheel over until the Pearl's sails spilled their air and slatted loosely, feeling the ship slow as she lost her impetus. Enough sails were reset to keep the Pearl stable and on the rudder.

The crew gathered to the rail and shrouds in interest, speculating as to the identity and purpose of the lone man who had been pursuing the Pearl. Marty made use of an overturned bucket to gain sufficient altitude to see over, elbowing the pirates on either side to make them give way for him. Out of habit, they obliged; Marty had been known upon occasion to use a dagger's point to encourage the slow movers. He was small, not insignificant.

The pretty little thing kept to her course, speeding cheekily past the now-lumbering Pearl and showing them her heels as she crossed the bow to gain sea room. The sloop made a fast racing turn and came back, slipping into the lee of the great black hull as her sails were dropped. Her master caught the lines thrown to him and secured his sweetheart safely, rope fenders slung over her sides, then finished furling her sails neatly under the critical eyes of the Pearl's crew and captain.

"Ahoy there, mate," Gibbs shouted down to the man. "What business do you have with the Black Pearl this day?"

The fellow looked up, glanced over the faces peering at him and grinned broadly, the straight dark hair windblown out of its lacing obscuring his lean features somewhat.

"Well, Mister Gibbs, I come to deliver a message to your captain, if you can get him out of the rigging, that is," came a pointed response in a cultured drawl whose familiarity startled the former Navy man into stepping back a pace.

"That can't ever be…Commodore Norrington! Is it yourself, then?" Gibbs called down, still disbelieving his eyes and ears. In his experience, officers such as Norrington came dressed in full uniform and attitude to match. This fellow, clad in a linen shirt open to thebroad black beltat his waist, sleeves rolled above the elbows, brown breeches, and barefoot to boot, looked nothing like the man to whom the voice belonged. If Gibbs wasn't mistaken, he had caught sight of something dark exposed where Norrington's shirt had fallen aside, something that looked suspiciously like a tattoo. And sailing alone in such fashion, besides. Well, at least there was a real sailor under that weighty uniform. His fellow pirates stared, gobsmacked.

By this time, Jack had returned almost to the deck and, standing on the rail, hung on to the ratlines and leaned out to call down in turn.

"Well, James, had fun, did you, racing my Pearl?"

"What do you think, Jack?"

"Couldn't resist that last little bit, could you? Showing off like that."

"On a day like this? Why waste the opportunity when I have it?"

"Know what you mean. What's her name, by the by? Couldn't quite make it out. And where did you steal her from, anyway?"

"She's called The Swift. I designed her and had her built a year past in Portsmouth."

"_You_ designed her?"

"I believe that _was_ what I said, Jack. Are you not going to invite me aboard?"

"Ah, I'm forgetting my manners, I am. Oy! Throw a line over for our visitor."

Jack gave the order, not bothering to call for a ladder, just for fun, and watched as the tall man slung a satchel over his shoulder and climbed up quickly, boosting himself easily over the rail. Once on deck, Norrington scraped his hair back and retied it neatly at the nape of his neck, extending his hand then in greeting to Jack.

Jack, in his turn, swayed back and peered at the proffered hand in his now customary performance of dubious trust. The hand's owner held it up for inspection and declared it wasn't very dirty; it had been washed as recently as that morning and then held it out again. This time, Jack took it and they shook hands primly, straight-faced, then both grinned and laughed as they looked at the peculiar looks on the puzzled faces surrounding them.

"Well, James, now that you're aboard, what is it that's so important it had you racing to meet a pirate ship?"

"I come bearing an invitation from Mrs. Turner. You know it's easier to do as she commands rather than try to resist, don't you, Jack?"

"Aye, I know. A force of nature is our Lizzie. What sort of invitation?"

"Are you not going to offer your guest some refreshment, now that I've gone to all this effort to track you down?"

Jack grinned up at the taller man, the sun glinting off his gold and silver teeth, dark cinnamon eyes crinkling in good humour, meeting the striking green eyes glowing vividly in the bright light. Clapping James on the shoulder, Jack turned and strolled off for the great cabin, waving to the other to follow along.

"How are the Turners, James? It's been three months since I saw them last."

"They are doing very well, as you might expect, Jack. Will has the skills and love of his craft and Elizabeth has the business acumen and drive. Between them, they are establishing his reputation further afield. Their house is coming along well; I expect she will be looking to engage their servants soon. All in all, Weatherby has become accustomed to the whole thing. Will and he are actually growing closer, perhaps because they have Elizabeth in common to commiserate over. Will has put much effort into learning how to be a gentleman and fitting in but he's still his own man, how ever much he wants to please his wife. He's becoming quite accomplished at wooing the society nobs, whatever he thinks of them privately."

"Hmm, I'm glad to hear this, Jamie, for all I wish Lizzie had been kinder to you. She was too young and enamoured of pirates and young Bootstrap to appreciate what she was losing when she chose Will." It still rankled Jack how a good man had been treated, and in such a public humiliation.

"Water under the bridge, Jack. They are doing well together and time should take care of any immaturity left. At least they are become good friends to both of us. I fully expect at some point in the near future, we will become _Uncle Jack_ and _Uncle Jamie_ to whatever young they manage to produce. If the fates are just, then that pair will have children exactly like themselves, a most suitable revenge that I, for one, fully intend to foment to the utmost."

"You know, you are a good deal more devious than you look, Jamie."

James smiled at his unlikely friend, his whimsical expression quite charming Anamaria who had left the helm to peer down at the attractive man as they came aft. Her eyes did not leave his face until the two men had passed from sight below her vantage point. Cotton had watched her sudden interest as he took the wheel, smiling to himself at the young woman and stroking Parrot's face around the beak to distract him, or her, from making rude comments. For the moment, Parrot was contentedly snuggling against Cotton's whiskery cheek, crooning softly to the man and disinclined to offer any remarks, rude or otherwise.

Jack opened the door to the cabin and ushered James politely inside, shutting the door behind them, to the disappointment of his inquisitive crew. James looked around in interest, he had seen the wretched exterior of the ship during the episode with Barbossa and the skeleton pirates but had not had the opportunity to inspect it after Jack had restored her. The luxury of the cabin's appointments did not come as a surprise to him but it suited both Jack and the great ship, hedonists, the pair of them. His own Dauntless was more spartan though every bit as majestic.

"You've done well by the Pearl, Jack. She's looking every bit as fine as she ought now."

"Thank you, James. It's taken quite a lot of work and money, finding the materials and craftsmen, but it's been worth it."

Jack gave the wood nearest him an admiring and loving caress, a slight tilt of the deck giving the impression the ship leaned back into his hand in thanks. James quirked an eyebrow at the image, then simply accepted it, shrugging. Normal science seemed not to be a part of Jack and the Pearl's relationship and he felt no particular urge to question it.

Jack smirked back at him and moved to the heavily carved dark mahogany table to offer rum with lime and water for refreshment, as well as fresh fruit. They took their drinks and sat on the bench along the stern lights, enjoying the warm breeze that came in the open ports. James had removed his satchel and now rooted around in it for the formal invitation from Elizabeth, handing it to Jack to open.

"You mentioned this was an invite, James. What sort is it?"

"Well, you know, you could just open the letter and read it for yourself. I know perfectly well you can read; every time you're near a book, you just can't resist it."

"You can't just tell me, Jamie? You know Lizzie's writing is a brute to decipher, she crosses the page back and forth, sideways and every which way to save paper." Jack whined a bit and made pleading eyes at James. James looked at the expression directed at him and merely sighed.

"Oh, very well. Some pirate you are. She is inviting you, Gibbs and Anamaria for Christmas Eve dinner at the Governor's mansion. There will be others there for it is an occasion so you will all have to dress appropriately and behave yourselves. In other words, don't look so much like pirates and mind your manners. Will can accommodate you three at their new house or the forge, if you are so minded, otherwise we will have to arrange something else for you."

"Actually, I was thinking I could stay with you, Jamie. That way, we can get in some games of chess and all. It's been a while since we played and I've not finished exploring your library yet. You've a far better cellar than Will, for that matter. Anyway, your housekeeper likes me."

"Considering the way you coo at her every time you're there, that's hardly a surprise. I'm still waiting for Mrs. Bloom to slap you, especially after the way you bussed and pinched her last time." James shook his head at Jack, tsking both at his behaviour and that he got away with it to boot.

"Nah, Mrs. B. will never slap me, _she_ thinks I'm just fine, just as I am. So there." Jack stuck out his tongue at James.

James' only response was to give Jack his best "midshipmen, ye be warned" look and take another sip from his glass. Rising, he wandered over to the cabinet on the forward bulkhead, wishing to see what the pirate had on display. The heavy carving recalled an earlier age of grandeur, something the ships had mostly lost in the modern age, and James wanted to inspect the craftsmanship more closely.

"So, James, how long have you been designing boats?"

"It's something I began doing as a boy but this is the first I've designed that's been built. I wanted something I could handle myself so I could take her out when I want to have some time on my own. She handles well; today was the first time I've been able to really put her through her paces. Fortunately, Elizabeth gave me a reason to take her out and there were no urgent issues to deal with, such as rogue pirates and the like."

"In other words, you decided to have a holiday and actually enjoy yourself. I'm proud of you. You should do it more often."

"It's difficult to get away like this, Jack; you know what my duties are."

"Aye, I know. It's not before time that you're taking some leave for yourself. That reminds me, how did you know where to find us?"

"I had word from Tortuga and you were sighted by a patrol that returned to port yesterday."

"From Tortuga, you say? That raises its own question, don't it"

"So it would seem." James raised his brows derisively, showing Jack that no more details would be forthcoming.

"No matter. Now that you're here, how's about showing me your pretty little boat? I've been itching to have a look at her since I saw how she moved, even before I knew it was your own fine self coming to meet us."

"Very well, let's go then." James needed no encouragement to show off his pride and joy.

The two put their glasses down on the tray and left the cabin, Jack pausing to pat the Pearl and whisper, "No need to be jealous, love, only going to have a look at your little sister." A tiny surge under his feet helped him on his way. Apparently the Pearl approved of her new relative.

The two men headed back out to the deck and scrambled down the line to the sloop. James showed Jack through her cabin and around her deck. She was small but exquisitely designed and detailed, a lovely creature any sailor could admire. Jack certainly appreciated her as his clever hands touched and stroked the fine wood and metalwork. He wanted very much to feel how she behaved for someone other than her James.

Norrington watched him, amused and understanding, calling up to Gibbs that they were going to go for a short sail and not to worry that he was abducting their captain. Gibbs waved at him in acknowledgement. He then released the lines and they raised the sails as they came out from the Pearl's shadow.

It took very little for the Swift to catch the wind and pick up speed. James handled the sheets whilst allowing Jack the tiller. Together they sailed blithely along, tacking and gybeing back and forth as the whimsy took them. After an hour or two of play, Jack then brought her around in a wide arc to return to the Pearl, coming back into the lee of the black hull as James had done earlier. They tied up to the Pearl and climbed back aboard, a broad smile on each satisfied face.

"She's a rare treat to handle, James. You've got quite the talent there. Do you have other designs drawn up?"

"Some, but they're not as far along as the Swift. You can have a look at them when you come."

"I'd like that fine. Do you have time for a meal with us or do you have to head back to Port Royal right away?"

"I've taken several days leave so am in no hurry to return. I would appreciate a meal and a chance to look over the Pearl more thoroughly, if I may. She's an unusual ship and I'd like to learn more about her and how she sails so well."

Jack grinned happily at this praise of his love then called to Gibbs to see a meal for the four of them was set up in his cabin. Christmas was going to be interesting this year, thanks to the whelp and the spitfire.

He was quite looking forward to it all.


	2. Lat Us Rejoyis and be Blyth

**Pirates of the Caribbean, Elsa's Christmas present 2004**

Merry Christmas, Elsa. You "demanded" more of **Special Delivery** so here it is. This is a tale that belongs somewhere after the Kettle of Hawks story line. No angst, no hurt. I've used Theodore as Groves' first name as I've become accustomed to it from many other stories from other writers.

Disclaimer: the usual. Don't own, belongs to the Mouse, no infringement intended, no profit made.

Rating: G

_**Special Delivery, Part 2**_

_**Lat Us Rejoyis and be Blyth**_

The crew watched in some trepidation as the Black Pearl sailed inexorably closer to the Jamaican coast and the harbour of Port Royal. They knew their captain had a letter signed by both Governor Swann and Commodore Norrington guaranteeing safe passage but they were still uncomfortable entering this seat of naval might so boldly, even after several prior visits. Once they were safely anchored and reassured of their reception, then the crew could relax and begin to enjoy themselves.

As they came in view of the harbour, the massive dark bulk of the Dauntless stood guard, anchored in the deeper water near the entrance. The fort with its heavy cannon lent a menacing air to the approach, the threat tacit but projected all too clearly. The other naval vessels in port merely added to the disquiet felt by the Pearl's crew; they were outnumbered and outgunned no matter how they looked at the situation.

To advertise their benign intent, Gibbs had the largest Jack in the Pearl's stores run up to display its bold colours against the sky, a white parley flag flying jauntily below it. The Pearl's gun ports were conspicuously shut, her hull a uniform glossy black, the figurehead and stern bearing the most colour and gilt. The dark smoke-grey sails were part of her legend and were trimmed to a nicety, proving to any onlooker that her captain and crew knew their business. The neglect and misery that Barbossa had inflicted on the Black Pearl had been made good after his defeat by her rightful captain. The great ship appeared now in her true glory, a power unto herself and one to be treated with the respect due her.

"Jack, are you sure you want to do this? I mean, look at the firepower we're coming in under."

Gibbs wished to make absolutely certain that his mad captain really comprehended the risk he was taking. It was one thing to meet up with the likes of the Governor's daughter and her affianced at other, more discreet locations around the island; this was something quite different. Entering this port in such a manner, letter or no, was like the fox trotting merrily into the hounds' own kennel, the fowl in its clever jaws, and sitting down to enjoy its ill-gotten dinner amidst them.

Gibbs was not the only crew member grumbling, mostly from nerves, truth be told. Jack looked around at his crewmen, and woman, perish the thought he should include Anamaria among the men, observing the signs of unease. He was not all that thrilled his own self but reckoned the Governor and the Commodore would be able to uphold their side of the bargain. The new accord with the Royal Navy was taking some time to become used to, at least when the Pearl ventured in to the squadron's home base. At any rate, there was no advantage in coming in timidly, their tail tucked between their legs; this was a situation that called for the bold assurance as befitted a famous sea captain.

"Look smart now, you scurvy dogs," Jack yelled at his twitching crew. "Stand up there and show them you're the best and finest in the whole of the Caribbees, not just some pack of common fishermen and bumboat men."

His exhortations, made as he prowled along the deck behind their backs as they lined up along the rails to peer into the harbour, must have had some effect. Gibbs went the other direction, barking similar commands at the men as he came around to meet up with Jack amidships; his long service in the Royal Navy standing him in good stead. They both knew perfectly well that many of the sailors aboard had had less than happy encounters with the King's Navy but watched in some satisfaction as the men pulled themselves together, squaring shoulders and standing more proudly.

Under Anamaria's hand, the Black Pearl slowed and glided majestically to the anchorage, dropping her starboard bow anchor just before her forward progress ceased, leaving just enough way on her to set the anchor properly. Gibbs the sailing master had lost neither his touch nor his timing. The sails were furled neatly and the yards aligned as smartly as any Navy ship. For a moment, the entire harbour seemed to hold its collective breath then released it as a long boat left the jetty, heading out to greet the Pearl.

Jack pulled out his spyglass from a pocket in his long waistcoat, opening it and casually putting it to his eye. He was unsurprised to see an officer's blue uniform and several red coats on the men in the boat in addition to the sailors; he cast around the fortifications and the warships to make sure there were no overt signs of hostile intent. Despite his currently amicable arrangement with the British, Jack had learnt to exercise caution until he was assured of his reception. For all they called him mad, he had no desire to take his place swinging in the breeze at Dead Man's Cay as had many of his past associates.

Returning his gaze to the long boat, Jack noticed a familiar form aboard. Will was coming out to meet them, further guarantee that their safe passage would be honoured. He had to smile as his old friend's son began to wave his hat in greeting as they neared the high black side of the Pearl's stout hull.

"Looks like Lizzie hasn't succeeded in burying that hat somewhere yet," Jack mentioned in an aside to Gibbs, waving to Will in turn as he did so.

"At least it makes him recognizable, Jack, even if it is such a bloody peculiar lookin' thing. Maybe that's why he's wearin' it today, eh?" Gibbs attempted to find some good in the hat, though it was a bit of a stretch, even for his knack of invention. He and Jack looked at each other for a moment, grinning broadly at each other at Will's expense; after all, he had not yet boarded and was unable to overhear their comments.

"Might as well let down the ladder for them, Mr. Gibbs. We wouldn't want our guests to muss up their pretty clothes, now would we?"

Jack turned and headed for the great cabin. If he was going to entertain guests, then he would be a good host and offer them refreshments. He supposed he ought to change into something a little more posh, given he _was_ a genuine celebrity in these parts. He did not want his Pearl to be ashamed of him before visitors; he now had a substantial wardrobe of garments suitable for all occasions that a well-to-do pirate captain might find himself in.

Once in his cabin, he raised the lid of his favourite sea chest and contemplated the selection, singing absently to himself all the while. Reaching in, he lifted several items until one caught his eye and he hauled out a fine white shirt trimmed lavishly with delicate Brussels lace. Humming in satisfaction, he dug deeper until he unearthed an equally fine black damask waistcoat, embroidered elegantly with black silk and silver threads, closed with buttons of carved jet.

Laying the garments out on his bed, Jack then rooted around until he uncovered a pair of black breeches and the soft high-topped black calfskin boots he had had made recently. He knew perfectly well the boots were impractical on board but appearances were everything. Changing quickly, he shoved his other clothes under the fancy pillows on his bed to deal with later.

He decided a bit of colour was just what was needed to set off the elegant tone he was attempting to present. Jack hoisted a small iron-bound Spanish trunk up to the heavy mahogany table to peer inside more easily; the crimson silk sash with a heavy rolled fringe at the ends and a matching crimson silk head scarf fit the bill to a nicety. A broad belt in supple black leather and chased silver buckle were secured over the sash.

A quick look in the mirror to freshen the kohl around his dark eyes and, he really could not help himself, an admiring glance at the fine picture he presented. The beads and jinglies in his hair would keep his exotic image alive and well; they were expected of him, part of his persona. To finish his toilette, Jack tucked a fine Spanish dagger in a red Morocco sheath into his sash as well as his silver mounted pistol.

He was fully aware he was playing to the expectations of others but he did so enjoy the luxury of having the means to do so, both to enhance the Pearl's reputation and his own. He also had no hesitation in using the advantage the appearance of wealth and power gave him; sometimes that was enough to achieve his goal without having to fight for it. Hearing the sounds from the deck, the legendary Captain Jack Sparrow went out to greet his visitors.

Will Turner and several Navy men were coming along the deck toward the great cabin when Jack made his entrance. His audience stopped to stare at the bold pirate captain; even Will looked his surprise at the elegant appearance of his friend. The officer with him seemed to be quite taken with the sight of Jack, eyes gleaming with something like admiration. The Marines escorting them were also familiar and Jack nodded politely to the pair, not forgetting the role they had played in the defeat of the undead pirates.

"Welcome aboard, William. Very nice of you to come out to greet us like this, appreciate the gesture, I do." Jack greeted his friend, first shaking his hand then drawing him in closer for a quick hug and a slap on the back.

"It's good to see you again, Jack, it's been far too long since we saw you. Elizabeth's all in a frenzy making preparations for the New Year's ball; she has her father's household staff beside themselves trying to keep up with her."

Will shared a knowing smile with Jack, both men quite happy to be safely away from the uproar at the Governor's mansion and its women for the moment. The Governor was a politician and a diplomat by the nature of his position and he was far better equipped than lesser mortals to deal with a houseful of womenfolk in full cry. Neither Will nor Jack had any intention of admitting their mutual cowardice, preferring to obfuscate around that fact. The officer who had accompanied Will out to the Black Pearl had a grin of commiseration on his face whilst closely peering all around. Jack turned to face the officer, retaining a comradely grasp on Will's shoulder.

"Well, Master Turner, are you not going to introduce me to this fine fellow with you? He looks like he's quite enjoying himself, ogling my Pearl."

At the remark, Will grinned and performed the requested service.

"Captain Jack Sparrow, this is First Lieutenant Theodore Groves. Lieutenant Groves, this is Captain Jack Sparrow of the Black Pearl. It seems that the lieutenant has wanted to meet you ever since we, ah…borrowed… the Interceptor."

The handsome officer had a look of contained delight on his face as he took Jack's hand when it was offered to him, grasping it firmly then releasing it, much to its owner's relief. Jack was still not completely certain that the Navy had forgiven that little episode; after all, he had been responsible for the borrowing, though not the sinking, of their pretty boat. A generous share from Barbossa's hoard had eased matters considerably with the powers in London; fortunately those jackals had no idea how much treasure the cavern had actually held and Jack had no intention that they should ever learn otherwise. After all, his hard-earned treasure was no business of the grasping thieves in Whitehall, worse pirates than any in the Caribbean.

"That entire manoeuvre was worthy of the captain who took Nassau without firing a shot. As I told the Commodore, at the time, you had to be the best pirate I'd ever seen."

Jack stared at the man for a moment, keeping his thoughts off his face whilst processing the nuances of the last sentence. He would have given a good deal to have been on board the Dauntless and witnessed the scene the lieutenant mentioned. He could just imagine the look then on Norrington's face; after all, the Commodore had had a very trying time of it, what with Barbossa's men overrunning the town, Elizabeth's abduction and then the brazen theft of his pretty little boat. Jack sensibly chose not to pursue the issue of the Interceptor but saw no reason not to play up to his admirer. One never knew when a friendly face in the Navy would come in handy.

"Thank you kindly for that endorsement, Mr. Groves. At least we can meet now under more pleasant circumstances. May I offer you gentlemen some refreshments? If you have the time, perhaps a look around the Black Pearl might be in order, if you are interested, that is?"

"Actually, Jack, we are under direct orders to bring the guests back with us and to not dawdle about it. Oh, and be prepared to stay over for several nights. Do you, Gibbs and Anamaria need time to pack or are you ready to leave?"

"We're nearly ready to go, William. I'll be over at the Commodore's house as planned. Have you decided where Joshamee and Ana will be staying?"

"They have a choice, Jack, as our house isn't quite ready for occupation yet, so they can choose either to stay at my quarters at the forge or up at the mansion with Elizabeth She's very eager to see everyone, even with all the preparations. I expect she'll come out to the Pearl to catch up with the crew in a couple of days. Your visit is all she's been talking about for the last fortnight. From the mutterings, I believe she desires a few pirates to put the fear of God into some of the tradesmen she's had to deal with of late." Will said this with a very bland and innocent look on his face, knowing his beloved had her own share of pirate in her nature but was hampered by her social position to exercise it to its fullest extent.

"Why am I not surprised at that, eh? Well, if that's what she wants, then that can be arranged, can it not?"

"Jack. Do not. I repeat. Do not encourage her or offer to deal with those tradesmen on her behalf. It will be difficult enough without you stirring things up."

Will thought it wisest to nip this notion in the bud. Jack and Elizabeth were two of a kind and on their own each was a handful. The notion of putting the pair together and then turning them loose to terrorize an unsuspecting Port Royal gave him shivers, although there were some potential victims that appealed to his baser nature. He made a mental note to himself to keep an eye on both his fiancée and his father's best friend for as long as the Pearl remained in port.

While the friends had been chatting, the Pearl's crew was being told in explicit terms by Gibbs and Anamaria what behaviour was expected of them, what they were allowed to do, and most importantly, what they were forbidden to do. Their faces were somewhat surly until the announcement that shore parties would be permitted, in limited groups, so that the crew could visit selected establishments and make merry as it was a special visit. They were not, under any circumstances, to misbehave or they would regret their actions for the foreseeable future or the rest of their natural lives, whichever came first.

Groves heard the loud voices behind him and turned to observe how discipline was handled on a pirate ship. He really tried to think of the Black Pearl as a privateer nowadays but it was a difficult habit to break. He was quite fascinated by the whole crew, their appearance, and behaviour toward their officers and captain. It was a system wholly unlike that in the King's Navy yet he had to admit it appeared to work well enough aboard the Black Pearl. It was clear that Sparrow had spent lavishly to restore the ship and Groves wondered if he would be able to have a tour of her at some time while the ship was in port.

Jack turned to Groves and offered an invitation for the officer to come out to the Pearl for a look around at some point during their visit to Port Royal. They were out of time now as the first shore party would be disembarking very soon; Gibbs and Anamaria were scurrying up from their quarters with their duffle bags and oddments of gear. Jack noticed that they had each managed a fast change of clothes and were now dressed in their better outfits as befitted the occasion. He left the party on deck and walked back to his cabin, retrieving his own things and the presents. He thought to himself, I'm becoming a regular Father Christmas. Just so long as they don't think this pirate is a tame pirate.

Jack rejoined the group on deck and they made their departure, leaving Marty in charge while they were away. Anamaria gave one last scowl, double-checking that the crew were sufficiently compliant as she met their eyes. Satisfied for the moment, she made her way over the side and down to the long boat, taking the seat that had been left for her between Gibbs and Groves. With all passengers and their effects now on board, the lieutenant gave the command to return to the dock.

Upon reaching the dock and securing the long boat, the Christmas guests disembarked, taking their gear along to the carriage Groves indicated they were to use. Courteously, Groves inquired for the destination each visitor wished. He was already aware that Captain Sparrow would be guesting with the Commodore but was not sure where Gibbs and Anamaria were going to stay for the duration of their visit.

Gibbs and Will looked at each other and nodded, the living quarters at the forge would do fine for Gibbs and it was closer to the harbour and the Pearl if he was needed. Rather surprisingly Anamaria chose to stay with Elizabeth at the mansion. The others looked askance when she announced her choice and then grinned wickedly when her response was that she would be able to lend assistance to Elizabeth when dealing with the troublesome tradesmen.

Lieutenant Groves appreciated the sly humour of the choice; he had been watching Anamaria since he had first realized that one of the Pearl's senior officers was a woman. His observations gave him to believe that the town's tradesmen would be in for a trying time until the Black Pearl left port again. It was certainly no hardship to observe Anamaria, she was a handsome woman, pirate, privateer or whatever she wished to be called. It bid fair to be a most entertaining Yule this year, a definite improvement over the usual run of parties with their predatory husband-hunting women. In that light, he caught her eye and smiled widely, letting his admiration show on his handsome face.

Ana had not given the lieutenant a close look until that smile. She blinked in some surprise; first the Commodore when he had raced his sloop out to meet the Pearl, now this man. She had never really thought about the men who wore those stiff uniforms; just perceived them as dangers to be avoided or foes to be fought. This entire trip into Port Royal looked to be more interesting than she had at first believed.

Gibbs and Jack had caught the byplay between Anamaria and Groves. They glanced at each other, Gibbs grinning slyly behind the cover of his hand and bushy whiskers, Jack looking quickly out the window of the carriage lest he attract Ana's ire. She might appear to have her attention elsewhere but he had felt her slap before and knew how hard and fast she could strike; he did not particularly wish to arrive at the Commodore's and have to explain the red handprint on his face if she got a slap in. On further thought, he didn't want the sarcasm at his expense either as he was quite certain Norrington would not believe he hadn't earned the slap. After all, he had been slapped by women (mostly) from one side of the Caribbean to the other and a good few places beyond as well.

The carriage stopped to let Will and Gibbs off at the forge, and then proceeded to the Governor's mansion to disembark Anamaria and the lieutenant. Groves insisted that he accompany Anamaria to the door and saw to it that a footman was sent to inform Mrs. Turner of her guest's arrival. It was a courteous gesture on his part, to ease the way for a young woman who was most likely unfamiliar with the English gentry class and its customs. It also kept him in Anamaria's company just that little bit longer.

Jack was driven to Norrington's house along the cliffs. He had been there before and enjoyed the comfortable house and the company of its owner, not to mention his host's library and wine cellar. The Commodore's house was not large but was elegantly designed and furnished, rather like the man himself, but had enough personal touches to make it a home rather than merely a residence. The gardens were pleasant and best of all, there was a grand view out to sea and a path down to a very nice stretch of beach. Jack preferred the guest room that had the finest view out to sea; from there he would be able to see any ships that entered or departed the port and would even be able to keep an eye on the Black Pearl at her anchorage.

Norrington was still at the fort or somewhere about, attending to his Commodorial duties, so Jack trotted along to visit with Mrs. Bloom, the housekeeper. She was a most excellent cook and had a kindness for wayward pirates or, at least, one pirate in particular. Jack knew she was expecting him so there would be fresh baking and culinary delights that were just for him. He had a Christmas present for her that he had acquired on one of their adventures and wanted to see her face when she opened it. James had accused him of cooing at Mrs. Bloom but Jack did not mind, it was perfectly true, after all. He would visit with his favourite housekeeper, allowing her to spoil him with goodies, until either James came home or James' library and wine cellar called to him.

At the forge, Gibbs was settling into his billet and regaling Will with some of the most recent goings-on aboard the Black Pearl. Will listened with his habitual politeness, interjecting the occasional question or commenting on a detail; the former Navy man's talent for tall tales never ceased to entertain and Will enjoyed the latest offerings. He always waited to hear when the sea turtles appeared in one of the stories; Gibbs had made it a custom for Will's benefit to include mention of the creatures in some fantastical manner. Both men quite enjoyed the yarning and looked forward to a good session whenever they were able to meet.

"Do you have any plans for the morning and early afternoon, Joshamee? It'll be a while before the supper begins. There will be a number of guests to arrive so there will be a chance to meet people. It isn't to be a large affair, just an opportunity to visit with friends and family rather than the society nobs. Elizabeth says she has enough of all the fuss and fury acting as hostess for her father and this is one time that she would like to enjoy herself as she wishes. The Governor acquiesced as there are more than enough balls and parties in the season to satisfy anyone."

"Aye, Will, I do have plans. There are some old friends I intend to meet up with, including a few from my time in the Navy. Under the circumstances I can move about the town without having to keep a weather eye out for the Watch or the marines out to catch poor sailors."

"I seem to recall hearing how Joshamee Gibbs had found a nice widow woman to visit in Port Royal after the last time you had a chance to come here. I believe she keeps several fine pigs, does she not?" Will raised an eyebrow over a straight face; he was not above teasing his older friend, recollecting the first time he had seen him slumbering with his porcine sty-mates back in Tortuga. At least now the smell was vastly improved.

Gibbs gave Will a look of mild reproof. "Now you've no call to be insulting, Will. There's nothing wrong with pigs. Better company than many men I've met."

"Not to mention their owner?"

"You just be quiet and mind yer own business, Master Blacksmith."

Will laughed at Gibbs, enjoying teasing the man and the suspicious flush that now gave his weathered cheeks a ruddier colour. He left off tormenting him; there would be other opportunities during their visit. It was going to be a very different Yule this year than any he had had before. Will wished his parents could have seen how well his life was turning out after all.

TBC…

10


	3. God Rest Ye MerryGentlemen?

_**Special Delivery, Part 3**_

This is a tale that belongs somewhere after the Kettle of Hawks story line. No angst, no hurt. Was intended as a one shot deal but pushy friends have clamoured for more so it looks like this Christmas story won't be finished until next Christmas.

Disclaimer: the usual. Don't own, belongs to the Mouse, no infringement intended, no profit made.

**_God Rest Ye Merry…Gentlemen?_**

Weatherby Swann, His Excellency the Governor of His Majesty's Colony of Jamaica, sighed in fond exasperation as his daughter dashed to the window overlooking the drive for the umpteenth time since their noontime repast. She might be married now and a respectable young matron in their society, but he was of the opinion that she would be a very long time growing in to that role.

"Elizabeth."

No response. The girl was oblivious.

"Elizabeth."

Still no response. Exasperation, thy name is Elizabeth.

"Elizabeth!"

Ah, that got through, finally.

"Come away from the window, my dear. They will get here when they get here and not a moment sooner, no matter what you do."

This Yuletide visit was becoming quite the affair, he mulled. Here he was, opening his house to assorted pirates and who knew what else, all for this Christmas dinner that Elizabeth insisted upon, citing for justification her toleration of the tedious round of parties typical of their rather stagnant circle. They could be in for a most surprising time. At least these pirates were not of the ilk of Barbossa and his crew; he still had nightmares generated by that horrifying episode. Things had turned out well in the end though he was not entirely sure whose definition would be most applicable; definitely not that of the upper classes in cold, distant London.

In truth, that reprobate Jack Sparrow was becoming something of a regular visitor to the town. Weatherby smiled to himself; James had latched on to his diplomatic nonsense with poorly disguised relief after the Crown had attempted, and failed, to hang Sparrow for once and for all. Certainly that one day's head start had grown into several, not to mention repeated, near misses and almost captures. Perhaps it was not precisely the letter of the law but it was a more just conclusion to the entire episode.

He had waited for a year to see what activities Sparrow and his crew engaged in before allowing Norrington, Elizabeth and her young swain to _persuade_ him to offer a pardon to the rogue. The Governor was perfectly aware that he himself was not a man of action, nor ever would be, however, he was by no means as dull of mind as many believed. It was a useful device, to be sure, to present a benign, fumbling façade; people so often assumed that what they perceived was the real man. Swann had been quite successful in his ventures for many years and would make use of such a useful tool if he needed it to achieve his ends. He was of the opinion that Sparrow also used similar ruses to misdirect; the man, after all, was quick witted and capable in a surprising variety of situations. Quite entertaining, all told.

Now look at them, all the players upon his little stage. The Commodore and the Pirate were developing quite the camaraderie. He had noticed the changes in both men over the past two years. Norrington had learnt to relax more and to mature past the arrogance he had had as a young lieutenant and captain, justified though he might have been by his early brilliance and success. There was a quick-witted and pointed humour behind the uniform, a sense of humour that Swann thoroughly enjoyed.

As for Sparrow, the outlandish creature had grown on Swann. The return of the Black Pearl to the man's command had been of benefit to the Crown, given Sparrow's restraint from preying upon British shipping. It had not been difficult to give a provisional pardon and a Letter of Marque when he had been importuned by his daughter and her fiancé. The Commodore had been rather more suspicious of the ease of the move, judging by the penetrating looks he had given the Governor, but he too had chosen to accept the offer as presented and not stir things up. There had been moments when Weatherby had had to retreat to his library to savour the nuances of their expressions without giving away his game.

His son-in-law: William Turner the Younger. Now that had been a surprise and not at all a welcome one. It was true; the youngster had become a fine craftsman, especially after the true authorship of his work had come out. Quite an achievement for the poor orphan boy from the wreck they had encountered years ago on the passage out from England. He had noticed the fascination Elizabeth had with the boy and had tried to keep the two children in their proper places but even he had to admit to being an overly indulgent parent in acquiescing to Elizabeth so often.

Still, it was a pity, he thought idly, as he watched his daughter flit across the room back to her vantage point, that Elizabeth had refused Norrington. That would have been a fine match, not merely one of convenience and social standing. James truly had cared for her and had proven his devotion by stepping aside for Will; he would have been a good husband and a good friend for Elizabeth. They were both creatures of passion but James had the discipline and experience to temper his actions and to conceal his inner self better.

His daughter's husband – orphan, shipwreck survivor, blacksmith, pirate's friend and pirate's son – was a good man for all that. The boy had shown some courage in daring to aid the corsair who had saved them all from the undead pirates, probably not the best act of judgement but an honourable course. Elizabeth had declared herself for him in the most public of venues, leaving her father and her friends to make the best of the situation. The Governor thought that his wife would have been most disappointed in Elizabeth's handling of her engagement to Norrington and its humiliating termination.

Swann thought of his late wife and what she would have made of all this and almost laughed aloud as he pictured Amanda's enjoyment of this absurd cast of players. Her loss pained him yet but he had the solace of seeing his lost love in their daughter. In the dark watches of the night, he often laid awake thinking of her and, in his mind, relating to her all the events of the day, almost able to hear her beloved voice and laughter in answer. She had had the most surprising chuckle, he recollected, surprisingly wicked for someone so elegant and ladylike. They had often amused themselves making up stories around the people they had encountered, sometimes quite inappropriate and improbable in nature.

It had not been easy for the boy but Will had worked very hard indeed to learn how to present himself as a gentleman and to progress from blacksmith to master sword maker. He had an innate courtesy that aided matters considerably, once his shyness had been overcome. A handsome face and good clothes did no harm to his cause either.

They had been assisted by Norrington, of all people. Perhaps not so surprising; the naval officer had helped the boy get a start when they had first arrived in Port Royal years ago. Since the fiasco, James had made all efforts to demonstrate his approval of the match and had freely given his support and blessing to the pair. From what Swann observed, the three had become fast friends and were settling into a solid, comfortable relationship.

It had taken time but the townspeople had adjusted and, as Swann had so often noticed, memories were short and people grew accustomed to William Turner as a worthy citizen of increasingly solid reputation. After all, that was what they witnessed every day. There would always be an element that thrived on spiteful gossip and scandal but, so far, his new son-in-law was performing admirably, even borrowing Norrington's patrician and frostily polite stare to silence an obnoxious detractor. Weatherby had been grateful for his long years in court circles when he had seen that familiar glare exercised on the younger face; luckily, he had managed to restrain his laughter until he was alone.

Elizabeth had worked very hard in turn to develop her young man's standing and acceptance in the community. She had connections that allowed her to promote Will's expertise and to foster his reputation much further afield than simple word of mouth would have done. Norrington had aided the project by patronizing Will's shop for Naval orders; Weatherby had done likewise for gifts and the like for his own circle. He suspected strongly that a certain pirate had had his hand in things, to judge by some of the orders Will had filled recently. The simple truth was that the young sword maker truly was becoming a master at his art and the swords he produced testified to his skill.

The future would have to look after itself; today he had pirates coming as Christmas guests. He looked over to his daughter, who was again peering out the window. Ah well, at least this way she was not bedevilling his staff; they were long used to her energy and strong opinions but even they had been driven to vexation with Elizabeth's insistence on one change after another.

The clattering of horses' hooves on the shell and gravel drive announced the arrival of visitors to the Governor's mansion. Elizabeth was about to dash to the foyer to greet them when her father called her back. She knew he would like her to show some decorum and she tried respect his wishes but there were times when she just could not resist her impulses. She had reason today; the Black Pearl had dropped anchor in the bay and the long boat had brought friends for Christmas.

The butler opened the door and ushered the visitors into the foyer, making inquiry as to the names he was to announce to the master of the house and directing them to the green salon to wait. Somewhat to his dismay, the Governor and Mrs. Turner had not bothered to wait for proper formalities and had already joined their guests.

Mrs. Turner hurried out again, once she knew who would be staying at the mansion, to direct the footmen to take Miss Anamaria's baggage up to the blue guest room. She did not bother to wait to ensure her orders were carried out, choosing instead to quickly rejoin the others and begin to catch up on the most recent doings aboard the Black Pearl. Fortunately the staff had prepared refreshments and the butler saw to it that they were brought into the room and offered to all.

Elizabeth and Anamaria were soon ensconced on an elegant settee in the window embrasure, their heads together and words passing rapidly between them, a most unlikely pairing on the surface. Elizabeth filled her friend in on everything that had been happening and her annoyance with some of the tradesmen in Port Royal. Anamaria listened closely, trying to make sense of the difficulties to be found a way of life so different from her own.

Swann chatted with Lieutenant Groves, both men watching the two young women plotting their nefarious schemes. The Governor liked a number of the young officers from the fort; they amused him with their antics and attitudes. Groves was a favourite with Elizabeth and her husband; there was intelligence and capability there in addition to a well turned out form. Norrington would not tolerate a fool under his command and Groves had proven his value several times over.

Swann had noticed the lieutenant's eyes drifting over to the pirate woman seated beside his daughter and the frank admiration showing so clearly. He had no notion where that would lead, given the disparity between the two young persons. On the other hand, this was Jamaica, not England and things were done differently out here.

"Well, Lieutenant, you've managed to deliver the guests to their chosen quarters without incident. Not always a sure thing, to be certain, particularly with these rapscallions, eh?"

"It was not difficult at all, Your Excellency, the assignments were straightforward and presented no problems at all."

"It's not every day that you are sent to welcome pirates in to the town. I should expect that you would have enjoyed a look at the Black Pearl, now that she is in much better condition than the first time we encountered her here in Port Royal."

"You are absolutely correct, sir, the ship has been restored to a very fine state. There was little time to look around properly, given that our orders were to escort the guests with no delays. Captain Sparrow very obligingly offered me a chance to visit his ship and look her over whilst they are in port." Groves' eyes and face lit up with real pleasure as he anticipated his promised viewing of the Black Pearl.

"You have received your invitation to the dinner tomorrow?" Swann asked in a kindly voice. He knew Elizabeth had sent out invitations to a number of the officers at the fort, the ones she thought would provide the more interesting company at her rather unusual dinner. She had already requested that Murtogg and Mullroy escort the Commodore; they would receive a good Christmas supper with the staff. They had been part of the adventure of the Aztec gold and were favourites among the naval personnel, in part due to their comedic behaviour.

"Yes, sir. Thank you for the privilege and the pleasure, sir. We are looking forward to it in great anticipation."

"As for Captain Sparrow, you sent him along to the Commodore's house, did you not?"

"Yes, sir. Those were my instructions from Commodore Norrington."

"I would expect that Norrington's housekeeper will have prepared for his arrival; she is a most noteworthy cook and I have heard Sparrow express his appreciation of her efforts on his behalf upon previous visits."

"I believe that to be true, sir, from comments the Commodore has made. It is a far cry from what is normal aboard a ship and to be enjoyed when one has the opportunity."

At this juncture, Elizabeth rose and came over to rejoin her father and Groves, Anamaria following closely behind.

"Lieutenant, you will be sure to come on time tomorrow, for the dinner and entertainments. It bids fair to be an enjoyable evening."

"Thank you, ma'am, I will strive not to disappoint you." Groves made a warmly polite answer, quite happy to look forward to an affair that he and the others would be able to enjoy without reservation.

"Now that I have fulfilled my obligations in delivering your guests, I fear I must return to my other duties at the fort." With that, Groves made his farewells and left until the morrow, leaving Mrs. Turner and Miss Anamaria to plot whatever he did not want to know about.

"Mrs. B.!"

"I am here at last!"

"The festivities may now commence."

Jack announced his arrival without the least modicum of modesty; after all, he _was_ _Captain Jack Sparrow_. He knew perfectly well that Mrs. Bloom was expecting him and, ascertaining by the luscious aromas wafting from the rear of the Commodore's pretty house, he would be the beneficiary of her sterling efforts very soon. He had gone around to the entrance to the kitchen, pausing long enough to toss his bags in the front door, seeing no need to stand on ceremony; besides it put him that much closer to his just desserts. The door was open and needing no further encouragement, Jack jingled his way in, catching up the short plump woman, working at the large wooden table, about her waist and swinging her around, kissing her rosy cheeks in greeting.

Mrs. Bloom returned the hug for an instant then scolded him to put her down immediately.

"There's some people have to work, to make things ready for the Commodore, not make nuisances of themselves, like some I could name."

"Ah, I've heard of such people, indeed I have. Never did understand 'em but to each his own, eh, Mrs. B.?"

"You're a rogue, you are, a dratted hairy pirate sneaking in to get under my feet and in my way and track dirt all over my clean floors."

For all the harsh judgement in her words, the housekeeper returned the man's wide grin with an equally wide smile of her own, then pushed him away, telling him to sit down at the table and either make himself useful or stay out of the road. By the time Jack had seated himself, a plate of freshly made tarts and other succulent treats had appeared on the well-scrubbed wood in front of him.

He cast an experienced eye over the selection, approving her choices wholeheartedly. She had some of his favourites all waiting on his arrival, from luscious rum-soaked fruit preserves glistening with sugar to delicate rose flavoured custards, all tucked into fine rich pastry shells. Shaking out the linen cloth she held out to him, he flamboyantly draped it over his lap and tucked into the baked goods like a man who had found his life's dream. His hostess looked on approvingly as he ate, admitting to herself that her pirate did look very smartly turned out today, for all she enjoyed teasing the scamp.

Jack had devoured nearly half the bounty he had been given when he heard the master of the house return. For a moment, Jack considered whether he should be properly polite and go and greet his host but decided against it when he looked down at his plate, his decision made for him by a mango tart glazed with rich rum syrup. The Commodore would realize his guest had arrived by the canvas sacks that had been left just inside the front door. Besides, James knew perfectly well that Jack would have headed straight for the kitchen in hopes that Mrs. Bloom had succumbed to momentary madness and made treats for the pirate. At least, that was what Jack told himself as he squirmed around, settling his behind more comfortably in the caned seat of the chair.

Fortunately, Norrington did know his guest's proclivity for sweet baked goods, hardly a surprise given Jack's gold enhanced smile, and he made his way quietly along to the large and airy kitchen. Sparrow was not the only one who enjoyed the bounty of Mrs. Bloom's expert hands. Perhaps most of the gentry would not deign to go below stairs but this was a small, affectionate household, and James often found himself in the comfortable room. His life was full enough of pomp and circumstance and rigid rules that the relaxed ambience in his own dwelling was a welcomed relief. When the occasion required it, then his house and staff could present themselves as formally as any nob could wish. Today the Commodore's kitchen had its very own pirate and formality could go hang.

He had endured more than his fair share of simpering and fawning at many of the balls and dinners being held this season. Well-born and high ranking naval officers of the unmarried variety were popular quarry among the young women and their vulturine mamas, not to mention those townsmen who wished to form an advantageous connection with the Navy or the Governor. Norrington privately thought that the uniform deserved its share of the blame, making any man of reasonable looks a likely target, reasonable in this case being still breathing or at least above ground. Unlike the Commodore and the other captains, his lieutenants, particularly Groves and Gillette, had the luxury of being lesser quarry and thus more able to elude capture and boarding. Unfortunately for James, he not only had the rank and single status but the looks and background to make him Port Royal's favoured target.

Norrington had removed his hat and left it on the hall table before heading to Mrs. Bloom's domain. He knew his house guest had arrived, hard not to be aware, considering he had almost tripped over the baggage Sparrow had deposited inside the front door. The lovely scents wafting from the kitchen lured him just as much as they had the pirate; the promise of good company drew him along even more so. At any rate, Jack's ulterior motives would not include matchmaking; at least, James devoutly hoped they did not.

He sauntered through the open passageway and was greeted by the sight of his be-crumbed and sugary fellow ship's captain trying to brush the evidence of his gluttony from his clothes, beard and hair. It would appear that Jack had dressed himself as befitted a festive occasion and was in fact rather elegantly turned out, aside from the sticky bits.

"Well, Sparrow, what have you got to say for yourself?"

James could see that his friend's mouth had been crammed with pastry and a quick retort was wholly out of the question until Jack managed to swallow and wash everything down with a drink of wine. He waited for Jack's reply, pointedly tapping his foot on the stone floor whilst maintaining an expression of polite hauteur.

Jack's neck worked as he tried to both swallow and speak, managing a frog-like croak as he began to explain himself to the Commodore, his hands flitting rapidly about as they tried to answer for him. His throat was cleared and his voice restored when he chanced to look more closely at James' face. The man's face gave nothing away but Jack peered at Norrington's eyes and spotted the sly humour hiding there in the ocean green glinting under the long black brows.

"You sneaky, tricksy…Commodore, you. You did that deliberately, Norrington." Words almost failed the pirate as he realized that his friend had timed the question precisely to put Jack in a bind.

"Prove it, pirate."

Now an eyebrow was rapidly quirked. If Jack had not been watching closely, he would have missed that quirk and the challenge it offered. He frowned at the uniformed man standing there so smugly, hands clasped primly behind his back.

"Now then, Sir, Captain Jack is our guest and he's come to have a lovely Christmas here with his friends in Port Royal. It's not nice to make him choke like that, especially when you know how much he likes to chatter."

"You are correct, Mrs. B., Sparrow does chatter. Reminds me of a monkey at times."

Mrs. Bloom was quite unaware of Jack's namesake from the Barbossa episode; however, the same could not be said of Commodore Norrington who had indeed heard of Barbossa's pet monkey and its unwilling godparent from Elizabeth. Jack was under no delusions that James had made that comment in ignorance. Retribution would have to come when James was not expecting it but come it would. For now, Jack merely gave Norrington a pointed glare and deigned not to notice the very slight curl at the outboard end of James' mouth, a dead giveaway to the smirk hiding behind the uniform.

"Sit you down, now, Sir. Your plate is here, all ready for you to enjoy. It's a very nice bit of veal and ham pie, even if I do so say meself."

Mrs. Bloom knew her reputation for her pies was well-earned and nothing did her more proud than to see her young master devour her good pie as quickly and efficiently as Captain Jack was doing with his treats, although the Commodore did manage to keep the crumbs off his pretty uniform.

"Veal and ham pie, you say? Is there enough for me, too, or does _he_ get to have it all?"

Sparrow whined pathetically and turned beseeching calf eyes upon the stout rosy-cheeked woman, not above playing up to her most shamefully. Norrington watched the performance as he ate, quite amused though he was careful to keep a disdainful look on his face as the restless hands fluttered about, emphasizing the expressive kohl-lined eyes. He wondered, as he had on other occasions, if Jack had ties to the theatre, given his friend's propensity for dramatic flair and emoting.

"There's plenty more on the side table, as you can see full well. I would not leave you without enough to eat; you're thin enough as 'tis. Goodness knows what you get to eat when you're not here."

James nearly snorted at Mrs. B.'s comments, the image his mind offered was of a hungry seagull swooping down into his orderly kitchen, squawking and carrying on while cleaning up every scrap of food in sight. Somehow the image of a neat brown sparrow did not carry enough substance; besides, the gulls were the pirates of the sea winds so it was apt. He prudently kept his head turned down to savour the moment in addition to his meal, not wanting to draw Jack's attention.

Mrs. Bloom always enjoyed Jack's performances but this was a busy day and he had already had enough of her time; the Commodore was home now and he would be able to see to their guest's entertainment. She made sure they had plenty to eat and drink and then made ready to depart, calling for the maid to come and help her. Her boys were occupied for now and there was other work to be done for the house. She ran as tight a ship in her domain as did her employer in his. Satisfied things were in good order, she sailed off like a barque in full sail, her indigo skirts billowing around her.

After the housekeeper had left, James asked after the other guests and where they had been billeted. He had made arrangements with the Watch and with his own men to keep the shore parties from the Black Pearl under a light escort. This was not only to protect the crew but to reassure the townspeople as well; they were managing a campaign to establish the Black Pearl as a welcome sight in Port Royal and for the town to accept them. The sooner the memories of the raid and damage caused by Barbossa faded, the better for all.

"Well, Joshamee is staying at Will's quarters in the forge. It's closer to the harbour and he can keep an eye on the crew and the Pearl. It also happens to be not all that far from a lady he has come to visit. Met her a couple of trips past and was quite taken with her…and her pigs."

"Anamaria chose to stay with Elizabeth up at the mansion. Apparently our Lizzie has had some obstructionist tradesmen to deal with and Ana believed that she could be of help there. Bit frightening is what we all thought but we weren't going to tell them that to their faces."

"I concur. There are some things just too risky to chance."

"Aye. Well, we could show some sympathy for William but, considering that he chose his path, I think we should leave him to get by as best he can."

The two continued to chat whilst enjoying their meal. Neither had anywhere pressing to be for the moment, Christmas was upon them and things were quiet enough so that both men could relax. The dinner at the Governor's mansion was not until the next day and Jack and James preferred to remain safely away from Mrs. Turner and her new aide in the meantime.

After consuming the last of his treats and a goodly portion of James' veal and ham pie, Jack stood up and stretched mightily, until the sound of his joints popping and cracking echoed off the plaster walls. He retrieved the bottle of German white wine and his glass and beckoned to Norrington to lead the way to the study where the library shelves and the door down to the wine cellar waited, as well as the battered and much loved chess set James had inherited from his maternal grandfather. A pleasant afternoon and evening of good wine, good books and good company would finish the day off nicely for both of them. Tomorrow promised to be a lively day for all involved.

11


	4. Let Nothing Ye Dismay

_**Special Delivery, Chapter 4**_

This is a tale that belongs somewhere after the Kettle of Hawks story line. No angst, no hurt. A Christmas one shot story that keeps growing. I've kept Theo as Groves' first name as I like it; unfortunately I don't know who first used it so credit is due to that person. Gillette appears to have chosen Dominic for his name, at least in my universe.

Disclaimer: the usual. Don't own, belongs to the Mouse, no infringement intended, no profit made.

Rating: G

_**Let Nothing Ye Dismay**_

"You cannot be serious! You mean to tell me that you left Elizabeth Turner and that pirate woman to wreak disaster upon Port Royal and the Commodore approved?"

"I did indeed. It should provide a good deal of entertainment for us over the next several days. Besides, it was James who suggested that the ladies should be kept together."

Groves kept a straight face as he related the details of his assignment to his friend, Gillette, perfectly content to watch the man fairly crackle with hilarity at the thought of the potential havoc. Their eyes met with mutual delight at the opportunity to assist the mayhem with their own experienced hands. It had been ages since they had had such an opening handed to them. After all, it was not as if their commander was unaware of the potential consequences.

"Well, it would appear that this Christmas is looking better and better. This Anamaria, what is she like? I've heard she is one of Sparrow's officers on the _Black Pearl. _She was there when we had to deal with that Barbossa fellow, was she not?"

"Aye, that's true, Dom, she and Gibbs seem to be the senior officers on the ship. The rest of the crew is as peculiar an assortment as you could imagine, there's one who is a dwarf of some sort, even has a beard braid like his captain."

"What's the ship itself like, Theo? What sort of discipline do they have? I mean, there must be something they're doing right because you can see the ship looks good and is handled well. Just look how she came in to her anchorage today; that was neatly done, no matter who the crew and master."

"It was quite novel to observe how Sparrow handles things aboard. They might not be real Navy but they do have their own ways and they get the job done. The ship has been very lavishly restored, Sparrow spared no expense on the _Black Pearl_ and the workmanship is superior, even on the little I could see. I didn't have that much time to observe closely but Captain Sparrow has invited me back so that I can have a better chance to see for myself. Apparently my admiration of his ship did not pass unnoticed."

"Theo, a blind man could see your infatuation with that ship and her captain."

Gillette was not above teasing his friend. His own experience aboard the _Dauntless_ with the skeleton pirates had tempered his opinions somewhat. Sparrow's escape from the gallows and the leniency of both the Governor and Norrington had been another surprise but one that on reflection and discussion with Theo and Tosh, he had come to accept.

Groves gazed at the innocent look on the fair-skinned face, knowing well the devious mind under the flaming red hair. The uniform and wig concealed a born prankster and with the French and Irish mix, Groves knew Gillette came by his abilities honestly. James was equally sly but had a different style; anyone looking at Norrington would see a dignified and austere officer and gentleman. Little did they know what perils lurked beneath the fancy camouflage.

"Miss Anamaria is a handsome woman, an islander but I don't know which island that would be; she has a bit of a French accent mixed with island patois. She must be capable, otherwise Sparrow would never allow her to handle his ship nor would that crew accept orders from her. I had the impression that she could be quite the firebrand but the other sailors seemed to be rather proud of her."

"So do you think we should assist her in her endeavours whilst she's visiting?" Gillette could sense a kindred spirit in the woman his friend described and was looking forward to meeting her.

"I do, indeed. Anamaria chose to billet with Mrs. Turner up at the Governor's mansion in order to assist in dealing with the tradesmen displeasing to the lady."

"I expect the thought of the pair of them loose on the town would be enough to make shudders run down the necks of Will Turner and the Governor."

Gillette snorted with laughter as he imagined the faces of the people who would be taken to task by the two women. Elizabeth Turner when she had been Miss Swann had not been a favourite of his and he had had several run-ins with her. The events of two years past and her marriage had tempered Elizabeth's personality somewhat; Gillette also had gained some maturity along the way until now they were able to see each other with more tolerant eyes. They were not yet friends but they had achieved some common ground.

"What did James and Sparrow do about that, anyway?"

"I don't know yet. I sent the carriage off to take Sparrow to James' house but I don't know when James left his offices to return home. It wouldn't matter terribly if he was late as his housekeeper has been preparing for Sparrow's visit for a while. You know what a fine cook Mrs. Bloom is and how much she dotes on that pirate."

"Hmm, I wonder what kind of treats Sparrow gets that the rest of us don't?"

"Who knows, other than they will be very tasty."

"I suppose we'll have to leave James to deal with Sparrow whilst we find ways to entertain our lowly selves, non?"

"Indeed." Groves mimicked his commander's dry delivery perfectly, down to the familiar cool stare, causing renewed laughter in his friend.

Norrington accompanied Jack Sparrow down the hall to the comfortable study and library that was one of his favourite rooms in the house, pausing long enough to make a pointed remark about the flotsam jettisoned about his foyer.

"You _are_ planning to haul that mess up to your room, aren't you? My staff do have better things to do than pick up after wayward pirates, you know."

"Eh? You mean you want a guest to engage in manual labour?"

"I do not recall issuing an invitation to you but somehow, here you are, regardless."

"It was a very clear invite, James, as you know perfectly well."

This last statement was received with silence.

"Oh, very well, I invited meself to your pretty little house and your pretty little guest room. For the record, I don't recollect you puttin' up much of a protest. I'll just run my gear upstairs and then join you. Make yourself useful, why don't you; be the good host and lay out the pieces for a game?"

"Certainly, Jack. Pray, allow me to take that bottle for you. So where do you want to play today, by the window or out in the garden?"

"By the window would be good, just throw open the doors to the garden and it will be just fine. We can always go out if we wish; after all that fine food, a siesta under a nice shady tree would be welcome later on."

Jack slung most of the bags over his shoulders, telling James please to be taking a particular bag into the study, then headed up the stairs to his room, anticipating a very pleasant afternoon and evening. He had several gifts for his host and Mrs. Bloom, as well as for the lad and his bonny lass on the morrow. He had had a very enjoyable time looking for just the right presents; shopping was so much more pleasant when one had the wherewithal to command respect. Of course, certain items had been commandeered in the proper pirate fashion; _Captain_ Jack Sparrow did have a reputation to keep up.

For his part, Norrington tucked the bottle under his arm and heaved up his guest's sack, hauling it into his tidy study. He was quite curious to ascertain what Jack had brought this time, prior visits had produced varied and odd items, depending on what had struck his friend's whimsical tastes and roving eye. He merely hoped that nothing had been relieved from anyone with whom he was on amicable terms.

James dropped the bag onto a chair by the fireplace and set the wine bottle down on the table in the window embrasure. His chess players were stowed away in their fitted drawer under the table top with its inlaid board. The set was an old and battered one and had seen many games in its years; it had belonged to his grandfather who had given James his earliest lessons with it.

As he set the pieces out, he thought back affectionately on the old man and smiled in amusement as he imagined his grandfather playing chess with his pirate. The two would have got along tremendously as there had been more than a little of the wild rover in Samuel Redfern. James knew his grandfather had had quite the adventures as a young man at sea or when he served as a soldier. Even in his more advanced years, Redfern dealt with the freebooters who plied the south coast along the Channel, keeping himself amused in the time honoured tradition of foiling the authorities.

As he continued his task, James let his thoughts wander through the past, enjoying the opportunity to reminisce. The pieces had been well designed and carved, the ivory and ebony soft and patinaed with age and handling. They had acquired a chip here and there, several had been mended after accidents, but he would not exchange them for the finest set sculpted in the most valuable of materials. He held the two queens in his hand, waiting for Jack to come in to begin their game, looking out the window to the distant lands beyond the horizon, gently stroking them with his thumb.

A light chiming announced his house guest's arrival; Jack had taken the time to remove his boots and now wore a pair of soft leather slippers, heavily embroidered in the Moroccan style. James was a bit mystified by the soft ringing; he was used to the occasional clatter and tinkle from Jack's braids and beads but this had a rather different tone. He tilted his head slightly to hear better and caught Jack's eye, raising an enquiring brow.

"You look perplexed, James."

"I am a bit, rather. You have something of a ringing about you today, unlike the usual clacking of your beaded bits."

Jack put on a look of indignant censure at the description of his signature ornaments; it had taken years to acquire the collection and he was inordinately proud of it. Besides, each bit held a part of his past and his memories, some good, some ill, but all what made him the unique man he was.

"Clacking. That wounds me, it does. The fine and dulcet tones you are hearing are from the silver bells I've added in honour of the season, a festive touch, don't you think?"

As he spoke, Jack roamed around the study, peering into boxes and lifting up items that caught his roving eye and beckoned his agile fingers. James sat down at the window table and settled back to watch patiently as he knew from experience that Sparrow would perambulate until his curiosity had been satisfied. The man seldom, if ever, came to rest for any appreciable length of time, a true child of the restless sea and as ageless in some respects.

As Jack explored, the Commodore poured them each a glass of wine and sipped from his stemmed glass while he waited, holding it up to the light to admire the pale gold colour. He had left some of his plans for new vessels at his work table in addition to a mock-up for a hull; Jack had been quite taken by the _Swift_ and James knew he would be able to recognize the similarities to her in the plans. It would be quite interesting to hear what suggestions Jack would make on the subject of naval architecture; James had yet to discover how the Black Pearl sailed as well as she did, aside from having a captain who understood her heart in his own soul.

True to his expectations, the table and its sheets of drawings did lure the rogue. His attention well caught, Jack leant over the table, peering closely at the details on each sheet, muttering to himself when he came across things of which he approved.

"Well, Mister Sparrow, what do you think?"

"That's _Captain_ Sparrow, as you know perfectly well, _Mister_ Commodore Norrington. As for what I think, I think you've a bloody marvellous talent that you've been hiding under all that brocade. There are some very pretty little boats here, just waitin' to be built and set free."

"I'm glad you approve, Jack. By the way, there are some new additions to my library since you last ransacked it."

"Yes. I did notice," Jack's answer came accompanied with a limpid dark brown gaze up from under his brows as he swayed back a bit to peer across to the tall man seated by the window.

"Well, before you proceed with taking what you want, et cetera, do you still wish to have a game now or wait until later?"

"Actually, I think you ought to open that bag first. After all, I did go to some lengths to acquire the contents."

"Is it something I should have to be concerned about, given your propensity for thievery?"

"You wound me, you do. You'll just have to open it and find out for your own self, then."

James rose and sauntered over to the chair and stood looking down at the canvas sack, stained with tar and salt and bound with worn and prickly hemp cords. He lifted it up on to his work table and set about releasing the lines. Some of the knots were swollen from the damp and he resorted to using his pen knife to cut through the problem. The canvas flaps then were flipped open, revealing a wooden case with no markings other than a finely executed drawing of a mariner's compass, a diamond inset at due north glinting in the sunlight.

Somewhat puzzled and wholly intrigued, Norrington looked at the man now standing beside him. Sparrow nodded to him to continue, repeating that James would have to open the case to find out its secrets as it wasn't going to tell him just by him staring at it, even if the Commodore's deadly glare was enough to give even hardened scallywags the sweats.

Not troubling to reply, James unlatched the cover and raised it, revealing a large book bound in finely tooled calfskin but one which bore no title on its exterior. Opening it before he could be told to hurry up, James discovered that it was a magnificent atlas but one of which he had never heard. Carefully turning the leaves after the ornate title block, he was absolutely enthralled and silent, his eyes gleaming with wonder at the marvel he had beneath his hands. Page after page revealed seas and lands drawn in exquisite detail, the ornamentation elegant and lavish on some sheets, others were portolani, navigators' charts dense with bearings and notations.

"It's absolutely spectacular, Jack. Where did this come from and who had it made? It's clearly a collection of maps and charts from many sources so someone had to have collected them and then bound together like this."

"I thought you'd have an eye for this and you're one what would appreciate what it really means, not just see a set of maps."

"However did you come by it? I've never heard of this atlas that I can recall."

"Ah, you see, there's the rub: you would not have heard of it. This is one of a kind, this is, and there is not another to match it anywhere."

"How can you be so sure of that?" James turned over that question, suspecting the party responsible stood next to him, a sly smile glinting as Jack held up his hand, forefinger stretched out to emphasize his surety.

"What does the fine Commodore think the answer is?"

"The Commodore thinks that it was you, Captain."

"Ah. Smart man, that Commodore."

"Jesting aside, Jack, how did this collection come about? There's such a range of maps here, some I've heard tell of and others that are completely unknown to me. They are wonderful things, one and all, and together in an atlas that is itself a work of art."

"I've been to many ports over the years and have always tried to get hold of charts, rutters, sailing directions. Bought some, copied many, stole a few if the opportunity presented itself, even found some just lying about here and there. Some of these are copies I've made from my own set aboard the _Pearl_. My lady love has ways of keeping secrets and my former first mate was not one of her favoured suitors."

"Good heavens. Must say I'm not completely surprised. I've wondered about your navigational skills from what I observed on board the _Dauntless, _especially with a broken compass that doesn't point north."

"Well, we weren't trying to find north, now, were we?"

Jack's reasonable sounding answer would have been easier to accept if Norrington did not know first hand how treacherous the passage into the Isla de Muerta was. The reefs and surges had taken a brutal toll on those who had tried to force their way through. He stared at the pirate for a moment, considering past events, then decided some things just were not meant for man to delve into, simply accept them and move on. Perhaps some day he would discover the secret of that compass but it could wait.

"Now that we've established you like your present and I can find my way around the seas and my compass really wouldn't know north on a dare, can we get to our game?"

"My present?" James latched on to the one part of Jack's comment that concerned him.

"You look shocked, James. Don't be. I would only give it to one what would understand it and love it for itself. That would be your own fine self."

"I can't accept this, Jack, it's far too valuable and moreover it's something that you've put so much into."

"There, you see? You are the right one to have it."

"Jack, I don't know what to say."

"Say 'thank you, Jack' and then shut up, Jamie. Now can we go have a nice game of chess?"

"Thank you, Jack."

With that, the pair headed over to the game board. James picked up the queens, mixed them up behind his back and then proffered his closed hands to Jack to choose. Jack, being Jack, had to make a production out of the simple choice. He tapped the fingers of his left hand against his cheek whilst he muttered a counting rhyme under his breath, using the forefinger on his right hand to point between James' closed fists. James found himself counting along with Jack then sighed and settled back on his heels to wait the perplexing man out; Jack would eventually make a choice and then they could get on with playing.

"That one."

"This one?"

"That one."

"Are you absolutely certain that's the correct one?"

"Now who's being difficult?"

James laughed at his playing partner, opened his hand and displayed Jack's choice. Naturally it was the Black Queen. They settled themselves down and James opened the play. It was always interesting playing Jack because the man could be astute when he chose but his playing style, although soundly grounded, could be counted on to show unconventional moves that challenged James. Content with their situation, the pair played on through the rest of the afternoon, pausing to converse when the mood struck them, silent when they concentrated on outfoxing the other.

"James?"

"Yes, Jack?"

"D'you mind telling me why you encouraged Anamaria to stay up at the mansion with Elizabeth?"

"Noticed, did you?"

"Aye, I did notice."

"Well, I thought the ladies would enjoy themselves more if they were together."

"You do realize what that pair could do to your town and some of the tradesmen in it, don't you?"

"Indeed. I also took the liberty of suggesting that certain of my lieutenants could make themselves useful and oblige the ladies by helping out."

Jack thought about that remark for a moment, glancing up at James in suspicion. The man knew perfectly well what he was unleashing on the town, the Commodore was a sneaky fellow when he wished to be but Jack thought this plot had a distinctly Machaivellian bent.

"That's very Italian of you, James."

"Beg pardon?" James could not quite grasp where Jack was coming from.

"Italian fella, Niccolo Machiavelli. I'm quite sure you know of him."

"I see. You do me too much credit, Captain Sparrow."

"Should be entertaining at least."

"Yes."

With that, conversation ceased and the players returned to their game. They would have their evening meal in a while, and then amuse themselves with James' library until it was time to retire for the night. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve and Elizabeth's dinner party; a good night's rest would help prepare the men for the trials that undoubtedly lay before them.

10


	5. Come, Be Merry

_**Special Delivery, Chapter 5**_

This is a tale that belongs somewhere after the Kettle of Hawks story line. No angst, no hurt. A Christmas one shot story that keeps growing. I've kept Theo as Groves' first name as I like it; unfortunately I don't know who first used it so credit is due to that person. Gillette appears to have chosen Dominic for his name, at least in my universe.

Disclaimer: the usual. Don't own, belongs to the Mouse, no infringement intended, no profit made.

Rating: PG, maybe?

**_Come, be Merry_**

"I am so pleased that you were able to come, Anamaria," Elizabeth spoke as she led her guest up to her accommodations, not noticing the slight hesitation in her pirate friend as she stared covertly around at her surroundings.

"It's Christmas and Jack wanted to spend it here with his friends. Gibbs has his own reasons for wantin' to come into this port and the rest of the crew just like any place where there's food and drink to be had. They should be on good behaviour; it's not as if we haven't warned 'em enough."

"I would not expect that to be a problem. The Commodore has made arrangements to, how shall we say, oversee the crew?"

"He has, has he?"

"Naturally. Commodore Norrington makes it a habit to be prepared for any eventuality. He wants the Pearl to be accepted here as much as Will and I do, just that he wishes the liaison between Port Royal and Jack and his crew to progress slowly and safely. People tend to accept change more readily if it is done in little bits. Either that or he believes their memories are short-lived if left undisturbed."

"Well, we wouldn't want to upset the townsfolk, would we?"

"Not in that precise fashion, no."

"I heard you were havin' problems with some of the tradesmen here and that maybe I could help ya wit' them."

"That would be most appreciated, Ana."

"Would Norrington step in and prevent us from handlin' the shopkeepers? That one is a lot sharper than he lets on and I'd prefer to be sure, even if that madman, Jack Sparrow, says he's safe."

"James won't be a problem at all, so long as we refrain from anything that he would be required to take notice of. He was very subtle about it but he's the one who suggested that you stay with me."

"He nevah did! Don't he know what those greedy shop keepers are in for?"

"Mm-hmm. James understands perfectly well what he is unleashing on Port Royal though it did take me several days to realize his sly underhandedness. In his position as the commander of the military here, James is constantly besieged by people wishing to further their particular enterprises or goods. I suspect this might be a form of revenge for him."

"Well, seems Jack's right, after all; that one would make a good pirate if he didn't wear the uniform. He's tricksy enough when he wants to be, eh?"

"Probably why the pair of them have learned to get along so well; it's almost frightening when one thinks about it. For now, we have an opportune moment handed to us and I, for one, do not intend to waste it."

Anamaria and Elizabeth had reached the upstairs landing and turned to look at one another, an eerily similar look of anticipation and cunning appearing on each comely visage, pale and dark united in mischief. The erring tradesmen of Port Royal had best tread carefully, reinforcements had arrived and war was about to be declared. Unofficially, of course.

Elizabeth guided her guest along to the end chamber and opened the door, entering and then turning to motion Anamaria to come in. The pirate woman stepped in, trying not to mar the fine carpet beside the ornate bed. The room was very grand and her customary nerve was beginning to desert her; ships and taverns, village life and such were what she was accustomed to. This fine room was for the nobs, not the likes of her.

Her friend noticed the hesitation and quickly moved to reassure Anamaria. Elizabeth understood a bit more about the lifestyles of other folk now than she had as a young girl growing up in the Governor's mansion, enjoying a life of privilege and ease. She knew Anamaria was normally a confident woman but most likely would not have had much experience with this sort of environment. She went about reassuring her friend.

"Don't worry about this room, Anamaria; it's merely a room with a bed and furnishings, just a bit different style from any on the Black Pearl. Nothing more or less and you have a perfect right to be here, just as any other guest. In fact, you are more far welcome than some we have had to entertain. You'd be amazed at the ridiculous and utterly boring and tedious types a Governor can attract."

Anamaria looked around the room, considering what other guests may have stayed therein, and began to chuckle. She was wanted here and could hold her head up with anyone; after all, she was a free woman of property now.

Elizabeth showed her friend around the room and its amenities, indicating the wardrobe and shelves for her things, the bell pull to ring for a servant, the various fittings for washing and dressing. The windows had a fine view out to sea and Anamaria went over to them to stare out to the harbour and her vessel. The naval ships made her uneasy yet she was becoming accustomed to seeing them in more benign circumstances although the Dauntless's hulking mass would shiver the hairs on the neck of any who crossed her path with less than legitimate designs.

"It's a beautiful room, Elizabeth. Thank you for letting me come here. I think it will take some gettin' used to but I like it just fine, I do."

"You are most welcome, Anamaria. I think you'll find that you will feel more settled very soon. If you need anything, just pull that bell that I showed you and someone will come. If you need Will or myself, our room is the last down the hall on the harbour side; Will and I are staying here whilst Father entertains for the season. The house will be finished soon and then we shall be able to set it up as we wish."

"What's it like, then?"

"Much smaller than this place, of course. It's not very far from here; in fact, there's a pathway through the gardens that will take us there. There will be a forge there so Will can make his swords and cater to a more prominent clientele. He shall continue to run the forge that we purchased from Mr. Brown; people are used to dealing there and Will's new assistant is quite capable of fabricating the everyday ironmongery."

"What 'appened to Ol' Brown, then?"

"He was never the same after he lost his wife but was pleased enough to give up the smithing. He has moved in with his sister and her family and seems to be doing much better now, more like the person who took in Will those years ago."

"Seems like t'ings be workin' out for you all, then. There was a time when that didn't seem too likely, eh?"

"Impossible would be a better word. I think back on what happened and it feels more and more like it was a dream, not reality."

"Real enough, I'd say, but I understand what you mean, Lizzie."

"Would you like to see the rest of the house? Then, if you wish, I can take you down to show you our house. This is a quiet day for us. My dinner party is tomorrow and then at New Year's is the ball Father is giving so I will be hostess for him. That's the affair that has been causing the most difficulty with certain providers of goods and services from the town and where I wish to return a favour or three."

The ladies spent the rest of the afternoon plotting out Elizabeth's campaign and then discussed further tactics in the evening before chatting about the dinner the next day and the upcoming ball. Anamaria wanted to learn as much as she could before either event; she wanted to enjoy herself as much as possible in such a strange environment. She was not ashamed of what she was but knew there would be many who would condemn her outright for what they believed her to be.

The Governor and Will attempted not to stare at them too closely, neither man really wished either to know what was afoot or to become embroiled in their schemes. Will was primed to abet the ladies up to the point of preventing bloodshed or excessive property destruction. Weatherby prepared himself to deal with irate townspeople for the next fortnight, a small enough price he thought, considering the degree of enterprise and entertainment he would be privy to. His wife had had a more circumspect manner than their daughter but she also had occasionally indulged in devious plots and retributions. At least, Elizabeth came by her talents honestly.

The next morning, Jack was enjoying himself thoroughly in a bath of lovely fresh water and warbling loudly a favourite song, something about a young smith, his hammer and a buxom young damsel. Norrington overheard the songbird and, recognizing the very naughty song being rendered, went through his suite and opened the door to the bathing alcove between their quarters. The rather small room was a luxury but one he had come to enjoy immensely. The servants still had to haul the water up from the kitchen but there was a simple drain pipe that led outside, an experiment but one that worked well.

"You know, for a sparrow, one would think you would have a more melodious voice, Jack."

"'Ere now! What do you think you're doing, barging in on a man in his bath?" Jack's offended squawk showed his startlement, as did his sudden shift around to peer at his host, a wave of lavender scented water slopping over the side of the tub and onto the thick mat. "Someone needs to put a bell on you; you're worse than the ship's cat for sneaking about."

"Technically, that would be my bath, Jack. Actually, that would be my French bath salts and all as well, that you are so extravagantly sluicing about the floor."

"Yes. I know they're French, James. I'm the one what brought them for you last trip. Remember?"

"Do you know, I do believe you are correct?"

"If you're going to stand there, being rude and sarcastic, you may as well make yourself useful."

"And how may I be of service to _Captain_ Jack Sparrow, sir?"

"Young Rupert brought up a couple of pails of nice warm water not five minutes past. If you could stir your stumps a bit, you could pour one of 'em over my head and hair and get all the soap off. Slowly, mind you, not all at once."

Norrington bowed politely to his rather prune-like house guest and obliged his request, carefully cascading the clean water over Jack's head, making sure to get all the soap that he could see. The water slicked down Jack's mass of hair and baubles until he looked a very bedraggled fowl indeed. James tried, he really did, but a rather strangled cough escaped his renowned control.

Jack peered up at him, using both hands to scrape aside enough ropes of hair to make a window so he could see where to direct his scowl. "You said something, James?"

"Not at all, Jack, merely clearing a bit of a frog from my throat."

"And what would a fine, high toned fellow such as yourself, known for his melodic voice, be doing with something so lowly as a frog now, eh?"

"Nonsense, Jack. Everyone gets a frog in their throat now and again." James replied perfectly seriously. He then raised the pail and enquired politely if Jack would like a further rinse.

"Yes, thank you. That would be most appreciated. Once you've done that, be a good fellow and just fetch over those towels from the chair."

James glanced over to the towels and back down to Sparrow, replying, "Of course, Jack, I would be delighted to assist you."

Jack prepared for his final rinse, unwisely failing to take close notice of Norrington; he looked up in time to see an evil, evil gleam in the green eyes slung under the long brows and took a deep breath to make some sort of peremptory comment. His timing could have been better as his mouth opened at precisely the moment he received a full bucket of warm water in the face.

As he sputtered and coughed and spat out water, he heard the Commodore's smarmy voice say something about "ask and ye shall receive." Jack could not let the insult pass unanswered and tried to dowse James with a mighty splash from the tub but was not quick enough to catch his tormentor. He heard the deep laughter as a towel fluttered down upon his head and then the door closed, and locked, behind James as the villain retreated to his own quarters.

"Just you wait, _Mister_ Commodore James "L for Lysander" Norrington, and remember to watch your back. And yes, I _do_ know what the "L" stands for! Whoever names a child Lysander, anyway? Ah, I know! Them what has baby commodores, that's who."

The diatribe continued unabated, sotto voce, as Jack hauled himself out of the tub and towelled off. He wrapped up his hair in a cloth and donned the robe James' manservant had laid out for him to use. Returning to his room, Jack carefully shaved, trimming his beard line most elegantly, he thought, and made sure the beads in the braids were properly aligned. The hair would have to wait until it was dry so that his mane could be groomed for the dinner tonight.

Dressing leisurely, periodically adding to his diatribe against James, Jack was interrupted by a knock at his door. He called out to the person to enter, believing it to be one of the staff come to assist him. He turned around to make out his erstwhile tormentor approaching, a bottle and a glass held out as a peace offering.

"You again."

"Yes. I come to make amends, Jack."

Jack snorted in disbelief. "What sort of amends could you possibly think would make up for that grievous insult?"

"Seeing as 'tis you, Jack, I brought up a special rum a friend was able to provide for me upon your behalf. Would you care to try it?"

"It would have to be very special to make up for that bucket of water, Norrington."

"Ah, Norrington, is it now?"

"Yes, until I decide to change my mind about you."

"Perhaps this would help influence your decision."

James stepped across to the dressing table and set down the glass to free his hands to deal with the bottle. The bottle was dark and sealed with ribbon and wax impressed with some sort of crest. Jack's attention was well and truly caught; there was only one maker he had ever heard of who used such fancy frippery and if so, then this was a rum he had never been able to get his nefarious hands on, by fair means or foul.

James noticed from the side of his eye the pirate's intent air as the bottle was opened, satisfied that he had found something his friend truly would appreciate. Slowly, he carefully poured a glass for Jack, not above drawing out the process for additional effect.

"Stop teasing, Norrington, it doesn't become you."

"Teasing, am I? Well, if you're not certain that you'd care to imbibe a sip at the moment, I could remove it for another time."

"Get on with it, will you, James? It's bad luck to keep a rum from a man."

"Now that sounds like something Gibbs would say. Who did you say he was visiting in town, Jack?"

His house guest glared at him, the effect somewhat diminished by the lack of kohl which had yet to be re-applied after Jack's ablutions. The towel also gave the pirate a rather comical air. Norrington was enjoying himself immensely; it had been some time since he had had the freedom to indulge in such juvenile behaviour. Rank might have its privileges but it also got in the way of certain pleasures. He decided he had achieved enough for the moment and held out the glass to the man, interested to see what his reaction would be.

Jack accepted the offer and held the glass up to the light, admiring the rich colour of the aged rum. He then swirled it around and held the stem to his nose, allowing the fragrance to tease his nostrils. The scents were marvels, blends of spice and fruit and sugars, even the oak the rum had been aged in had lent its smoky tannin to the bouquet. Delicately, Jack took a small sip, closed his eyes and let the rum fill his mouth and back of his throat with its complex flavours. The look of utter bliss on his face told James his gift had been well received. When Jack eventually opened his eyes, he looked at James who had waited patiently until his friend was able to talk.

"You're forgiven, Jamie."

"I gather you like it then, Jack?"

"Like is far too weak a word to be used for a rum such as this. Have you ever tasted the nectar of the gods, James? If this isn't it, then I don't know what would be. How did you get hold of this, anyway? I've heard of the man who makes this but I've never been able to get even so much as a whiff of it before. He doesn't sell it but gives it only to those people he thinks would appreciate it and who deserve it." Jack paused for a moment while he contemplated the rum and James' bland face, before questioning in suspicion, "You didn't steal it, did you?"

Norrington merely stared back at the pirate, not bothering to reply.

"No, of course not, it's you we're talking about, not some ordinary mortal."

"As I said, Jack, a friend provided it."

"What did you have to give him to get the bottle? Your first born, the riches of Croesus, the…?"

"Nothing. I merely asked."

Jack was taken aback by the answer and, more than that, his curiosity was piqued. There was something James wasn't saying and he had an urge to discover it for himself. They would be in port until after the New Year's Ball so Jack would be able to amuse himself whilst James attended to duties at the fort or was otherwise engaged.

"Jack, enjoy the gift for what it is. As you told me, just say thank you and have done."

"Thank you, Jamie."

"Now that we've settled that, I will be in my library working on papers until noon. I don't know what you wish to do until then but I would hazard a guess that you will need all of that time to get that thatch beaten into submission and rake out the birds' nests and whatever other mysteries are lurking in there. When you're finished, feel free to join me or amuse yourself in the garden or go and pester Mrs. Bloom. We have nothing pressing until Elizabeth's dinner this evening."

Jack decided the gift of the rum and its little mystery outweighed the Commodore's slur on his trademark hair. He really did appreciate whatever James had done to acquire the treasure he was now able to indulge himself with but the fact remained that Montgomery Matthew, its creator, was as reclusive a man as there was in these parts. That rum was doled out as the man saw fit and money could not purchase it if he did not wish to sell. Perhaps Jack would be able to ferret out James' secret; maybe visits to certain contacts he knew in town would be in order.

On this note, the two men parted company and went off to attend to their respective business. James trotted briskly down to his library to deal with some of the correspondence waiting for him. Jack took the bottle and glass of the nectar of the gods and, thus fortified, sallied forth to his dressing table to do battle with his mane. Afterwards, he would be ready to enjoy whatever savoury delights Mrs. B. had produced for his delectation today.

_TBC_

10


	6. Draw Nigh with Lowly Fear

**_Special Delivery, Chapter 6_**

This is a tale that belongs somewhere after the Kettle of Hawks story line. No angst, no hurt. A Christmas one shot story that keeps growing. I have kept Theo as Groves' first name as I like it; unfortunately I do not know who first used it so credit is due to that person. Gillette appears to have chosen Dominic for his name, at least in my universe.

Disclaimer: the usual. Don't own, belongs to the Mouse, no infringement intended, no profit made.

Rating: G, maybe; certainly no worse than PG.

**_Draw nigh with lowly fear_**

Christmas Eve morning dawned fair and bright and promised to be a scorcher, even for Jamaica. The only saving grace to the heat was a fine brisk on-shore breeze that kept things bearable; England's damp and gloom were long ago forgotten by many who had made their homes here but recollected with nostalgia by others. Nostalgia may have had its place in the hearts of some of the residents but it did not extend to fond reminiscing over chilblains, catarrh and rheum.

Lieutenants Groves and Gillette were among those who had left the old world behind them for the foreseeable future, even though the latter's fair Irish complexion and auburn hair made him a chronic victim to the sun's harsh rays. His friend was more fortunate, having been blessed with an olive skin that tanned easily in these tropic climes. Gillette was thankful his uniform was blue, rather than the scarlet of the Marines; he shuddered at the thought of appearing even more lobster-like than he usually did.

"What time is it, Theo? We don't want to be late paying our respects."

"You just want to get a better look at that female pirate. That's all."

"You wound me! I merely wish to be a good guest and arrive promptly; it is after all the Governor's mansion we're on our way to visit this morning, to proffer our services to Mistress Turner during this so busy season." Gillette paused for a beat then went on. "Besides, you've already had an opportunity to go out to your favourite pirate ship, hobnob with your favourite pirates and have the pleasure of escorting one of them, a female, no less, to the mansion as a guest."

"You're merely jealous, Dom. I went about my duty as I had been ordered."

"And, lest we forget, you also brought your favourite pirate captain back with you, a certain Jack Sparrow."

"Dom! Cease and desist, you wretch."

"You know as well as I do James is perfectly aware how fascinated you are with that ship and her crew and took pity on you. He must be getting fatigued by this time, hearing all about the oh-so-fine qualities of that Jack Sparrow. I mean, even while the man's stealing the Interceptor, you were going on how Sparrow was the 'best pirate I've ever seen.' Completely insufferable."

"At least I wasn't going on about mermaids, now, was I? And let us not forget being run down by the largest ship in these waters. Besides, James agreed with me, even as he was attempting to sink the Interceptor."

Gillette had heard more than enough about those confounded mermaids to last him a life time but he wasn't about to admit defeat, he was a son of Erin and had to hold up to his ancestors' standard. There were opportunities this Yule season that he intended to work to the utmost, after all, that was what junior officers were created for. He understood that James was hampered in such pleasures by his more exalted position nowadays but had a chequered past to match the best, or should he say worst, of them.

"Never mind about the mermaids, there are more important things to attend to. With all the fuss and furor over the balls and fetes and whatever, there must be at least some things with which we could _assist _Mrs. Turner and her more interesting friends."

"I do not recollect you and Mrs. Turner being on such amicable terms in the past, Dom. In fact, the pair of you seemed more like wet cats hissing and spitting at each other during that episode with Barbossa."

"That was two years past, Theo; we've managed to come to some sort of truce since then. We're not bosom friends, of course, but we get along much better than we used to."

Gillette said this with as trustworthy an expression as he could manage. Groves looked at his fellow conspirator for a moment and gave up for the time being; this was not a battle he was going to succeed in winning and he really would rather get on with their plans. If they were going to enliven the festive season without bringing the Governor, the Commodore and the magistrates down upon their heads, then their planning would be critical. They had learned a lot from Norrington over the years regarding strategy and tactics and the ladies had shown themselves to be worthy opponents, indicating they would likely prove valuable as allies in this venture. Their intent was not to cause any harm, at least of the permanent kind, merely to stir up a few deserving folk.

"All right, Gillette, enough of this. What sort of ideas have you had so far?"

"Actually, I was thinking we could get on with our visit to Mrs. Turner and Miss Anamaria, make our obeisance and sound the depths, test the waters, that sort of thing."

"Sounds a good place to begin. Are we taking any presents or tokens of our regard up to the mansion this morning? It is Christmas Eve and we have been most kindly invited to sup there this evening. It would look better if we did not arrive with empty hands, even being such lowly creatures as lieutenants."

"We could find some suitable little things in the shops on the way, I expect. Can't say I have any idea what a lady pirate would find acceptable, what would you suggest? Knives, pistols, cannons, that sort of thing, perhaps?"

"You know perfectly well we would have to steal a cannon and then haul the thing up that hill. Completely impractical, to say the least. A fine knife or pistol or silk scarf even would be more reasonable. You know, that's not such a bad notion, even if it is one of yours, Dom."

"What can I say, other than that I'm brilliant?"

"Define brilliant."

« Mais non, mon ami. Il est suffisant d'être brillant. Étant brillant, on n'a pas besoin de le définir. »

"It's a wonder you can still fit your hat on your head, you know."

"There's no need to be insulting, Theo."

"I know."

"That's not very nice of you."

"I know."

"See if Father Christmas remembers you tonight."

"That the best you can do?"

"We'd best be going if we have to shop on the way. Do you have enough money on you?"

"Changing the subject means I win and, yes, I have some money. How are you fixed?"

"I'm a frugal sort so, yes, I have enough also."

"Frugal might not be the word most people would choose for you, Dominic. Nipcheese and miserly may be used more often to describe your way with money."

"There is no need to be insulting, Theo. I don't have a huge income any more than you do and it has to last. As long as we are posted to a ship or a shore berth, then it's not so bad but there's no telling if or when we would land up on the beach. A few nice fat prizes would be appreciated."

"Maybe the New Year will send a few our way."

"Anyhow you know it's the French part that's frugal; the Irish is much more open-handed."

"Profligate may be a better choice of word."

While the two men were sniping at each other, they had been donning their uniform jackets, tidying their wigs and cuffs, and settling their cocked hats in place. A final check in the small mirror allotted to their common room and a glance over each other to ensure nothing had been missed and they were off to set their schemes into motion, their eyes alight with anticipation.

"I trust you slept well, Anamaria?"

"Yes, I did. Bit of a surprise for me, I've not slept on such a soft bed before. Comin' ashore is always hard for me, at least at first, the land stays too still and sometimes I feel sick from it."

"The Black Pearl has her own motion and feeling, doesn't she?"

"Yeah, the little boats are one thing but a big ship like her rides somethin' diff'rent, slower and wider kinda."

"Do you notice when you come ashore that everything on the land moves the same way a ship rolls from side to side?"

"Sure. Takes a while for things to settle down and stay where they are supposed to be. Sometimes I think that's why Jack rolls around so much when he's on land but wit' that one, there's no tellin' if it be real or somethin' goin' on in his head."

"It would seem that the jury remains undecided on that score."

"It's prob'ly the rum."

"Possibly, but he still swayed and lurched even after I'd burned all the rum on that island Barbossa marooned us on and it's not like James would give a pirate an unlimited supply of rum either aboard ship or in prison."

"Maybe it's the sun addled him. There's 'nough stories around the islands about him. Throw in Gibbs and those sea turtles of his and who knows where the truth lies?"

Both young women had broad grins on their faces as they insulted _Captain _Jack Sparrow in absentia. Whatever the truth of the man's elaborately staggering gait, there was no reason for them to abstain from sharpening their claws. Whilst they were exchanging comments, Elizabeth was helping Anamaria out of the confining covers and into a light robe of violet silk. The pirate stroked the fabric in pleasure as her friend exclaimed how well the colour suited her.

"Come then, Anamaria, breakfast is waiting and there is much to do today. The guests won't be arriving until mid-afternoon so we can have some time to pursue other interests."

With that, the two quickly made their way to the small breakfast room that the Governor, Elizabeth and Will used when they dined en famille. Entering, they discovered the two men were already well in to their meal. Swann and Turner both stood to greet the young women and courteously seated them, Elizabeth making the first moves to show Anamaria what to do. Will bent over his wife's shoulder and kissed her lightly before taking his place again, each smiling happily at the other.

Weatherby waited for the pirate lass to allow him to slip her chair into the proper position and then returned to his comfortable armchair at the head of the table, making sure to catch Anamaria's eye and winked before he enquired after her first night in her guest room. A bit overwhelmed yet, Anamaria answered in a very subdued voice that her room was very nice, thank you, and that she had slept well enough for being ashore.

"I am pleased that the room was satisfactory although it is not the same as being on one's ship, I would gather. It is most fortunate that your captain was able to spare you from your duties to be our guest here. Elizabeth was so looking forward to your company. I am afraid, however, that my daughter intends to enlist your aid in some of her endeavours over the next fortnight. You must be sure not to allow her to overwork you nor permit her to persuade you into her more outrageous schemes. The town might never survive it."

At these words, delivered in a very kind and humorous voice, Anamaria looked up to see a very knowing look in Weatherby Swann's eye and more than a little enjoyment of the situation. She realized that Elizabeth's father was perfectly aware of his daughter's intentions and would indulge her in the campaign about to be launched. She figured that her friend's father must be well used to such carrying-ons and that he looked prepared to enjoy the spectacle. Abruptly, she saw Swann not as a member of the nobility but as the father of a kindred spirit; with this realization, Ana began to relax and take an interest in the variety of foodstuffs laid out on the table and the sideboard, curious to see what the nobs ate in the morning.

"When we dine like this, just the family and close friends, we do not trouble to stand on ceremony and thus we serve ourselves, my dear. The staff are exceedingly busy this at this time with the preparations for the dinner tonight and the ball at the New Year. Please help yourself to whatever takes your fancy on the serving table. If I may make a recommendation, the devilled kidneys are especially fine today as is the ham. Cook has a way with curing meats that is exceptional in these parts."

Anamaria thanked Elizabeth's father, not only for his breakfast suggestions but his courtesy toward her; it could not be everyday that a privateer woman of colour sat at his table. She appreciated the kindness and followed Elizabeth's lead in filling her plate and settling in to enjoy the meal. Jack had noticed her nervousness at the thought of being a guest in the Governor's home and had told her to simply follow Elizabeth's lead when it came to table manners and the like; if she needed further instruction, all Ana had to do was ask her friend in private. For once, Sparrow had offered sensible advice that worked and she was grateful to him for that, although she had no intention of admitting it except under duress.

Will had observed Anamaria's strategy in learning the new ropes of polite society and approved. He had begun in much the same manner and had grown far easier in his relations with Port Royal's upper crust. He still thought of his actions as playacting or a veneer laid over his humble origins but that notion came far less often now than it had at the beginning.

"What are your plans today before you have to get ready for the dinner tonight?" Swann asked the ladies, carefully sounding the depths for potential disasters. He had no objections to their enterprises as long as no one was hurt, property was not destroyed, and most importantly, his household was not thrown into even greater upheaval than it currently was.

He looked over to his son-in-law and saw that Will was listening just as intently and circumspectly for the answer. Catching Will's eye, Swann exchanged a look of commiserating fellowship; neither man wished to be in easy reach of the young women until their presence was required at the dinner. With any luck, each man would succeed in making his escape while the young ladies were finishing their breakfast. For his part, Weatherby had decided that the terrace would be his path to freedom, he considered Will had youth and a better turn of speed and could be abandoned to his fate. Besides, he knew his daughter would view her husband as the target of preference.

Will had realized what his father-in-law was already anticipating being drawn in willy-nilly to Elizabeth's machinations and preparing to abandon ship at the most opportune moment, as Jack would say. Thinking of Jack's scheming ways made Will look at Elizabeth's father speculatively, although he was careful to keep his overt attention on his eggs and ham. The two men actually had a number of traits in common and each used appearances and costume to divert attention. He managed to keep his expression bland; else he would have drawn unwelcome attention as he burst out laughing at the picture of Governor and pirate in each other's place and garb.

Conversation progressed during the meal with the men content to supply simple one or two word answers any time a question appeared to be directed toward them. The young women were going through various scenarios, several of which raised the hairs on the necks of the listeners. Neither man wanted to become embroiled in the schemes, leave that for braver or more foolhardy souls.

Fortunately Weatherby and Will had already progressed well into their morning repast prior to the arrival of Elizabeth and Anamaria. To further their bids for escape, both ladies were still en dishabille and would require time to finish dressing for their activities. The gentlemen each began to move back from the table at the same time, causing them to glance rapidly at the other before continuing as if nothing was untoward. Weatherby wandered over to the serving table which was fortuitously situated by the doors to the terrace. He hoped that Will's ploy would be more blatant, thus allowing him to slip outside unnoticed.

"Elizabeth, there's a gift I need to do some final touch ups before it can be given. I won't be long, love. Enjoy yourselves this morning, ladies."

With this innocent statement, Will smiled at Anamaria and leaned down to kiss his wife goodbye for the nonce, trying desperately not to interrupt her and draw attention to himself. He noticed peripherally that his father-in-law had managed to let himself out to the terrace without being apprehended, a final flip of dove grey coattails showing Swann slipping around the corner. Had he been able to see through the walls, Will was convinced that the older man would have picked up his heels as soon as he was out of sight of his daughter. One down, one to go.

Elizabeth smiled as her young husband kissed her cheek and felt the warmth of his hand as he rested it on her shoulder, his fingers caressing a lock of her hair. She was not paying strict attention to what he was saying at the moment and turned to make an inquiry of her father, only to discover he was no longer in the room, a partially closed glassed door showing where he had gone. She turned back to ask Will what her father had told him regarding his plans for the day, only to find that he too had taken advantage of her distraction to make a stealthy exit whilst her back was turned.

Anamaria had noticed the by-play between the men but kept quiet for the moment, too amused by their complete cowardice to interrupt the family. She had thought that such nonsense was more in Jack Sparrow's line but had never imagined the upper classes to be so similar. She was also enjoying her friend's look of surprise and annoyance at being abandoned by husband and father.

"Well, would you look at that, Ana? Both of them! Fleeing like rats leaving a sinking ship."

"Can't say I blame them any. You've got the wind in your sails now, girl, and they know what would be in store for them if they stayed hanging around here too long. Like Jack would say, they saw their opportune moments and made the best of 'em."

Elizabeth stared at her friend for a moment, contemplating the similarities between Governor, swordsmith and pirate. She still thought of Jack as a pirate even knowing he was now, officially, a privateer of some ilk. How close his definition of the term marched to that of the government was anyone's guess. For the moment, she had other things to worry about than how a pirate thought of himself.

"That may be true but it's still a nuisance. I had plans for both of them today before our dinner party later on and now look, the pair has bolted like the cravens they are. Now what am I to do?"

"P'raps somet'ing or someone will show up. You never know what's going to come to the door out of the blue. You, of all people, should know that."

Anamaria laughed at her disgruntled friend. Regardless of what happened, she could figure on being entertained today. She could almost see wheels turning in Elizabeth's head as they finished their breakfast. Once done, they would return to their rooms and finish dressing for the morning's activities, whatever they would turn out to be.

"What do you think of this one?" Would it suit her better than this one over here?"

"It's very nice, Theo. In fact, it's just as nice as the previous five you've hauled out for a look."

"I've never bought a gift for a pirate woman before. It's hard to know just which would be appropriate. After all, it's not like we really know her at all."

"You've gone through every silk scarf they had in the last shop and now you're upsetting this merchant as well."

"Well, what would you pick for her?"

"Ah, at last he's asking a real question. Thought I was going to grow roots in here waiting for you to make up your mind."

"Dominic, I'm really asking you. Now shut up and help me."

"Help me, he says. You're being utterly pathetic you know, Theodore. It's such a sad sight to see a fine naval officer sink so low."

"Shut it and make yourself useful, for once. We can argue later."

"Ooh, getting a bit snarky, are we?"

At the irate glare from his friend, Gillette relented and took pity on Groves. He cast an eye over the selection of silk scarves and inquired as to Miss Anamaria's colouring, features and stature. Upon hearing the answers and, bearing in mind the lady in question was a sailor, he turned aside from the scarves Theo had pulled out onto the counter and reached beneath a pile on another shelf. In triumph, he shook it out and cast it flamboyantly over the other scarves.

Groves looked at it in satisfaction, his friend had a keen eye for fine fabrics and this scarf was perfect. A deep lustrous gold, the silk had been very finely embroidered in darker shades of silk threads, some almost a deep warm bronze. Here and there a highlight in crimsons shimmered in the light, making the whole thing exotic and rich, something a woman pirate would appreciate.

"It appears you are good for something, after all, Dom. That's absolutely perfect."

"Good. Now that that is settled, can we get a move on and get there sometime in the forenoon?"

On that note, Groves turned to negotiate with the shopkeeper for the purchase and his friend intercepted him with the admonition to keep to things he knew best and to leave something like this to him. The French blood was much superior to either the English or the Irish when it came to such business transactions. Groves had seen Gillette haggle down many a tradesman and knew his friend was merely stating the truth of the matter; besides, this way he would even manage to save a little money. Trailing along behind the younger man, Groves settled down to wait as Gillette opened the bargaining.

A short while later, the two lieutenants were able to leave the shop with the last of their morning purchases and then made their way along to the Governor's mansion. At the front entry, they checked each other for neatness and then Groves rapped the ornate door knocker against the strike plate. When the door was opened by the footman, the butler appeared and inquired after their business here.

"Would you please inform Mrs.Turner that Lieutenants Groves and Gillette are here to pay a call?"

"Certainly, sir. Would the gentlemen please follow me to the green salon whilst Mrs.Turner is informed?"

"Thank you."

With that, the butler led them through the large airy foyer to the salon on the cooler side of the building. The day was already proving to be a warm one and would only get hotter as the hours went by; any respite from the heat would be welcomed. The salon was in fact a pale soft green, aiding the illusion of a pleasant coolness, helped along by ferns and such. The tall windows were further shaded by large mahogany and broadleaf trees.

In less than a quarter hour, their hostess arrived in something of a flurry, her house guest on her heels. The men stood and made their bows gracefully to each lady. Elizabeth motioned to Anamaria to come sit with her on the settee and then she bade the officers to be seated.

"It is so nice of you to pay us a visit this morning, LieutenantGroves,Lieutenant Gillette. May I enquire what brings you our way today?"

"Yes, ma'am. It being Christmas, the Commodore has given us some leave today so we thought we might be able to offer our services to assist you in some way. We know how busy hostesses are at this season and as you have been so kind as to invite both of us for the dinner party this evening, we wondered if we could repay your kindness."

At Groves' polite words, Elizabeth and Anamaria looked first at the lieutenants in their smart blue uniforms and white wigs and then at each other. Slow smiles of satisfaction spread acrossthe ladies' faces as they turned back to the men. A cynical person might have suggested there was also an element of cunning under the satisfied expressions.

"Mr. Groves, you and Mr. Gillette could not have come at a more opportune time. There are indeed some matters in which we would appreciate the assistance of two such gentlemen as yourselves." As Elizabeth made her reply, all four exchanged glances, eyes beginning to sparkle with gleeful anticipation.

In the study of the Commodore's house, James looked over at his disreputable friend as a rattle of beads and trinkets caught his attention. Jack had abruptly shivered, sending his adornments into motion.

"What is it, Jack? You look like a goose just walked over your grave."

"Might want to rig storm canvas, Jamie."

"How so? What are you feeling?"

"A change in the weather."

James rose from his desk and walked out onto the terrace, peering up at the sky and out to the sea. The winds and the smells on the air seemed perfectly normal, a pleasant day all around. Jack had wandered out to stand beside him, to see what the Navy man was about.

"It's not that kind of change, James. You'll need to look elsewhere."

"By elsewhere, I'd venture a guess you mean Elizabeth and Anamaria and the mayhem they hope to wreak upon Port Royal."

"'xactly so, Commodore. Seems you're not so slow, after all."

"You're not the only one who gets these feelings, you know. I just hide them better, that's all."

"Typical sailors, the pair of us. Superstitious and smellin' things on the breeze."

"Goes with the territory. Things should blow over fairly soon so we might as well settle back and enjoy it."

"Seems you're planning to enjoy the uproar."

"Why ever not?"

"Why not, indeed?"

TBC


	7. Ding Dong Merrily on High

_**Special Delivery, Chapter 7**_

_**Ding Dong Merrily on High**_

Disclaimer: the usual. Don't own, belongs to the Mouse, no infringement intended, no profit made.

Rating: PG, maybe?

Well pleased with himself for having successfully eluded being roped into his wife's schemes, Will Turner made his way down to the smithy, whistling merrily as he walked through the streets. He had not lied to Elizabeth and Anamaria; he actually did have some final touch ups to make on a present.

He also wished to see how Joshamee was faring; the smithy more than likely was serving simply as a place to hang his hat while Mr. Gibbs visited his lady friend in the town. For all he enjoyed teasing the older man, Will knew age and a hard life were taking their toll; eventually, if he lived long enough, Gibbs would retire from the sea. The letter of marque would at least keep the Black Pearl's crew safe from the Royal Navy; at any rate, those who chose to follow Jack's lead in accepting the Crown's offer.

For the moment, Will could allow his thoughts to ramble back over the past decade. Even as a young lad, first taken in as apprentice to Master Brown, he had never dared to dream so high as where he now found himself. Since Jack had blown…Will paused and laughed aloud as he corrected himself...as Jack had swaggered into his life, everything had turned topsy-turvy. The pirate had been right when he told Will that it all came down "to what a man can do and what a man can't do." Good advice all around, even when it came to making a place for himself in Jamaican society.

On that satisfied note, he reached the door to the smithy and entered, calling out to see if Gibbs was about. Hearing no immediate reply, Will went to check on his donkey in the pen behind the building. His helper had kept the beast fed and watered and she was dozing, her eyes and long ears at half mast, the near hind leg cocked up. Clucking so as not to startle her, Will reached over the gate and scratched her warm neck and around under her jaw, just where she liked it best and then stroked her ears gently. He opened the gate and slipped in to catch her by the cheek strap of the halter and lead her into the smithy; once his last chores were done he would take her back up to the mansion and then Hortense could spend her Christmas Day in the Governor's stable or pasture.

Stoking the forge Will hitched the donkey into the wheel to run the bellows. As the temperature built, he took out the items he wanted to work on and set them to heat. He removed his hat, jacket and good vest and shirt, exchanging them for an old shirt and heavy leather apron more suited to his task. As he went to fold his clothes and place them neatly away from dirt, he noticed a piece of paper pinned to the work bench. Will was wholly unsurprised to see Gibbs' plain script informing him that he, Joshamee, was visiting a certain lady but would return in time to attend the dinner up at the Governor's, not wishing to disappoint Miss Elizabeth.

"Well, Mr. Gibbs, I do hope you are enjoying yourself. You've nicely managed to escape being drawn in to whatever Elizabeth and Anamaria are up to, at least so far. I would hazard a guess, however, that we all are going to be involved up to our ears by the time the New Year comes in a week."

Will had long ago begun talking aloud to himself and Hortense after Brown had taken to drink following his wife's death. It filled the silence and the donkey was a good listener, if a poor conversationalist. Humming softly, Will drew the knife blade from the coals, checking the colour for the correct temperature. Satisfied, he set to finishing the shape of the blade, a small piece fit for a woman's hand. He laughed at what the biddies of Port Royal would have to say if they knew he was making his lady wife a dagger for Christmas.

A final heating and quenching and the blade was ready for finishing. Now whistling in good humour Will set to polishing the blade and then carefully ground it to make its edge. He had the ivory pieces already shaped and delicately carved with mermaids and dolphins for the handle. He thought the ivory and the fine silver pommel and polished quillons would finish the knife very prettily. The pommel he had formed up into an elegant shell design and had chased it to make it even more decorative, even the ends of the quillons had been worked into tiny shells.

For all its prettiness, the little dagger would have a razor's sharp edge, not unlike its intended owner. The sheath and matching belt were in deep blue leather with silver mounts to complement the dagger. Will had no idea where Elizabeth might find a use for the dagger but he knew she would appreciate it for the work of art it was. He had other, more conventional, gifts for her but he knew this would be a favourite.

Several hours passed before Will was finished. A final wipe and check for imperfections in the sunlight showed a flawless mirror shine on the little dagger. Tucking it carefully into its sheath, he wrapped it in layers of cloth, tying the package with a blue ribbon. He unhitched the donkey and returned her to her pen while he secured the forge, not anticipating its use for a day or two. He scrubbed down well and dressed in his good clothes again, ready to return to the mansion. So far, no one had come pounding at his door seeking help or to complain about his wife's activities. He was not entirely certain he should be happy about the silence or whether worry would be a better choice.

As Will finished dressing, Gibbs returned to the smithy, a large grin on his whiskery face. Looking around, he caught sight of Will putting on his good waistcoat and went over to help the youngster with his jacket. When Will turned around, he looked Gibbs up and down and whistled in disbelief at the man's turnout; good brown broadcloth coat and breeches and a clean linen shirt. The waistcoat seemed a tad florid to Turner's eyes but to each his own sense of fashion. After all, if Jack was close by, he would be the peacock people noticed, any lesser beings would disappear into his shadow by comparison.

"I wondered when you were going to show up. I was beginning to think you had made off permanently with your lady friend, Josh, and were going to abandon the rest of us to Elizabeth and Anamaria's ploys."

"Hey now, young Will, I said I'd be back in plenty of time to head up with you for your good wife's dinner and here I am."

"Much later and we would have had to send out search parties."

"Strange, is it not, that a man would be keeping so far away from his own young wife on this, their first Christmas Eve together as husband and wife?" Gibbs got his own jibe in, bristling out his side whiskers in a gleeful smile at his friend's expense.

"Not strange at all, as you know perfectly well, simply a matter of prudence."

Gibbs and Turner looked at each other for a moment, each grinning like a mad thing at the thought that others were targets for the pair of lady pirates at large in the town.

"Is Jack still up at the Commodore's, then, Will?"

"Of course he is; he's not the fool he makes himself out to be sometimes. James has a fine cellar and library and a housekeeper who positively dotes on Jack. It's more a wonder that Jack can fit his clothes after a visit. Mrs. Bloom has adopted him in all but name and spoils him dreadfully. At the rate he's going, he will need more gold teeth in the near future."

"Aye, he knows a soft berth when he finds one, Jack does. Never would have believed Jack and Norrington could have become friends like they done. Almost want to say "bad luck" but that ain't the case here. Still and all, it's a strange mix."

"Maybe not so strange, Josh, Jack has elements of the gentleman and James has something of pirate in him though you wouldn't countenance it in either of them, particularly when they are busy sniping at each other."

"Good thing Jack decided to accept that Letter of Marque, else the Commodore would still be after hunting him down and hanging him."

"James does take his duties seriously. As you say, it's a good thing they've come to an accord. I'd hate to lose either friend due to an execution."

"Wonder what's goin' on right now up at the Governor's house, eh, Will?"

"I probably should be wondering but until I must, I prefer to keep clear."

"Most men would say you're afraid of your own wife, you know, lad."

"Ah, but you're not most men, are you?"

"No, that I'm not, having seen your missus get right into the thick of things with that there Barbossa character. Quite something when she gets the bit between her teeth, like."

"That she is."

Will's face took on such a happy, besotted look that Gibbs just shook his head and laughed at the young man.

"Well, no matter. It's past time we was heading up to the mansion, ain't it? Wouldn't want to be late, you know. Anything else you need to do here before we go?"

"No, I'm done. Just have to secure the packs onto Hortense and then we can be off."

"You call the donkey Hortense? That's quite the fancy moniker for a blacksmith's donkey."

"What can I say? I heard the name when I was a lad and thought it sounded fine for her."

"No accountin' fer taste, I s'pose."

Gibbs wondered what lady Will had borrowed the name from; somehow, he did not believe the woman, whoever she was, would have been pleased to have been the namesake for a lowly and very hairy donkey. Smiling to himself, he helped Will load the packs onto the beast and they left to make their leisurely way up to the Governor's fine house and whatever disasters awaited them. He had hopes that the dinner at least would be a fine one; he had a feeling that they would need it.

The mid-day repast had been as fine as ever, Mrs. Bloom's talents had been exercised to please her pirate's delicate palate. She had outdone herself, in fact, as James cast his appreciative eye across the fine mahogany dining table with its burden. He knew with no doubts whatsoever that Jack Sparrow had been the source of inspiration for the woman's more creative efforts unlike his own apparently more plebian needs and tastes.

He paused for a moment, considering whether he should feel slighted by the disparity and then shrugged lightly, it was much more amusing to observe the flights taken by both pirate and cook when under his roof at the same time. He enjoyed whatever Mrs. B. came up with, plain or otherwise, and he had absolutely no intention of losing the best cook on Jamaica by a careless word.

A loud clattering and whistling announced the imminent arrival of said pirate just before the door from the hallway was thrown open, framing the flamboyant figure in the opening. A pause carefully timed for effect, and then Jack strolled in and inspected the dishes with anticipatory delight before taking his place at the head of the table. James cocked up an eyebrow at the performance and caught his guest's roving eye, pointedly glancing at his armchair Jack had usurped so cockily.

"James, there you are, mate! Why don't you just take a seat and then we can have our meal. Don't take all day about it, things will get cold and then you'll have to explain to Mrs. B. why it's your fault that her fine dishes went to waste."

"Why thank you, Jack. I'll just sit over here, shall I?"

"That will do fine; just hurry up about it, eh?"

James was in a mellow mood so he did not trouble to tease his house guest further when there was such a fine meal to be had. That bucket of water he had managed to toss at Jack had been a pleasant beginning to the day and, so far, nothing had arisen to spoil the lingering satisfaction of such a schoolboy prank.

They dined amicably on the bounty set out before them. They conversed leisurely for a time and then sat back to enjoy a bottle of wine at the end of their meal. There was quite a bit of time yet before they had to make themselves ready for the dinner party up at the Governor's mansion and neither had to be anywhere other than where they were presently situated.

"What do you plan to be doing for the next little while, James? It's far too early to dress for Elizabeth's little dinner."

"I just have two letters to finish penning and then my responsibilities are done, other than to give my staff their Christmas presents and to release them to their family obligations for the rest of the day. What do you wish to do in the mean time, Jack?"

"I believe I'll keep you company while you do your writin' and then, if you don't mind, I'd like to go along with you so as to give my presents as well."

"I see no difficulty in that. Come then."

With that, James pushed back his chair and rose from the table, sauntering back to his study. His letters would not take all that long, perhaps an hour, and hopefully that would not try Jack's patience too harshly. A bored and restless Sparrow was not a comfortable houseguest as James had discovered in the recent past.

Jack checked over the table to be certain that he had not overlooked a hidden treat and then slipped along the hall after the Commodore's tall figure. James settled in at his desk and got down to business in his usual efficient fashion and lost track of time and company for a while as he attended to his correspondence.

When he stretched his back and neck after finishing the second letter, James reached for the sand to hasten the drying of the ink prior to folding and sealing the pages and glanced around at an odd sound. He realized that Jack had found something to keep himself entertained with after all. On the other side of the room was a large table that Norrington used to lay out the sketches and models for his ship designs. Sparrow had found and set up a couple of small ship models, a ship in a bottle and several objects standing in for other vessels on a broad chart of the Caribbees.

To Norrington's deep amusement, the pirate was sprawled on his belly across the table, a ship in each hand as he played Navy and Pirates throughout the islands of the Caribbean. Jamaica evidently had already been captured and pillaged; a quick stop to Tortuga for the pirates to let off some steam, judging by the ships placed there, and then it would seem that the Windward Islands were about to come under attack.

Jack was mindful of the roar of the cannons and the commands and shouts on each side as he supplied appropriate sounds for the battle. In his enthusiasm for a particularly adroit maneouvre on the part of the Black Pearl, Jack's voice rose above the murmur he had been using to keep from disturbing James. Oblivious, he continued to play as Norrington very quietly left his seat and padded across to peer over Jack's shoulder.

"How goes the battle?" James inquired rather loudly, succeeding in startling Jack into an abrupt jerk and a cringe of guilty embarrassment. Granted, the man recovered quickly with his customary presence of mind and quick tongue but Norrington was pleased with himself; it was seldom that he was able to steal a march on Sparrow.

"Here I am, admiring your little boats and such fine plans for 'em and you come sneaking up behind me. Very ill mannered of you, I must say, especially for a Commodore. Thought you were supposed to be oh-so polite and lah-di-dah and here you come sneaking up on me, interrupting me at me labours. That's the second time today you've done that."

"Nonsense, I merely came over to see what sort of mess you were making of my work table."

Jack slithered back off the table, placing each model back on the table and straightening the charts and plans he had scattered about. James kept a watchful eye on the proceedings, his bland expression giving little away. The pile of sheets tidied into a neat pile, Jack brought the top page closer to the edge of the table and turned to ask James to explain the details of the vessel's plan.

For a couple of beats, James looked Sparrow in the eyes, giving no clues at all to what he was thinking, waiting for the man to sway closer to him and begin to speak. He suddenly smiled, his eyes turning warm and gleeful; he was quite willing to go over the details of his designs and drawings with Jack as he knew the Black Pearl's captain would appreciate what he was seeing.

"You're getting too good at playing me, James, will have to see about remedying that situation. Now, get busy and tell me all about these little boats you've been creating. That fine little sloop of yours looked like she should have some sisters to play with."

"The Swift does but only on paper to date. There are details here for other vessels, men of war and such, not just the small craft."

James hauled out sheets of plans and detailed drawings that he wished to show Jack, giving the man a bit of an elbow to make him shift along the table to make way for him. The models he rearranged so that they matched the drawings. Jack crowded back to James' side and together the pair explored the designs James had created. The more finished drawings were inked in a bold, clear hand; the penciled elements showed the changes as the architect made his choices. Jack's nimble fingers floated merrily across the pages strewn over the broad table, lighting here and there as he inspected and commented on what he observed.

The two men occupied themselves with the plans and models until it was time to dress for Elizabeth's dinner party. They headed off to their respective quarters to make ready. As it was a formal occasion of sorts, James selected his dress uniform; although he had acclimated to Jamaica's heat he still wished the uniforms could be of a more practical sort. Although he sometimes envied Jack's freedom in wardrobe selection, James knew the dark blue, white and gold suited him well. Not everyone could be a gaudy pirate like Sparrow but then, not everyone could be a Commodore either.

For his part, Jack had brought a nice selection of garments he had acquired recently from French and Spanish sources which were better left unnamed. He was perfectly aware of his looks and had no compunction about playing them up when he wished to make an entrance. Given that it was Elizabeth's party, he decided to make use of the Spanish garb. The coat and breeches were in fine black silks with heavy black lacework and embroideries giving a lush, rich look. The waistcoat was also black but embroidered with gold-wrapped threads. His shirt was an extraordinarily fine white linen from Egypt with a relatively simple cravat edged with lace; centred in the fall of the cravat just below the knot was a pigeon's blood ruby the size of a quail's egg.

Jack had curried his mane until it appeared much sleeker and had removed some of the lesser ornaments for the occasion, along with an impressive mound of hair snarls. In his ear, he wore a tear drop shaped black pearl and on his hands, he wore his heavy silver rings and several more set with fine gems. He added a black sash over his waistcoat and stood back to admire the picture he presented.

He had not forgotten to refresh the kohl around his eyes but had taken care to apply it to enhance his eyes rather than to cut the sun's glare. His beard and moustache had been neatly trimmed and the beard braids redone with jewels befitting the high toned affair he would be attending. In honour of the occasion, he left his beloved old leather hat on the dressing table and in its stead donned a fine black cocked hat. A few other items found their way into his capacious pockets and Captain Jack Sparrow was ready for a party.

Stepping out of his chamber, Jack trotted down the stairs to meet up with James. It was time to give out presents and wish everyone merry and then head up to the mansion. Jack came to the foyer and headed for the open doors to the salon where James' small household had assembled; he could hear a buzz of conversation and laughter and so he went in to join them.

James looked over to the doorway and grinned when he saw the apparition of splendour that now graced his home. The servants followed his glance and broke out into admiring oohs and ahs at the Spanish grandee who occupied centre stage. The Commodore stepped forward to greet his guest with a low bow and flourish, showing a fine leg. Not to be outdone, Captain Sparrow removed his hat and made an even lower and more extravagant leg in his turn. Both men turned to face their audience, Norrington straight-backed and regal, Sparrow fluid and graceful, and then together they made their bows to the men and women of the household, receiving a round of applause for their efforts.

Formalities tended to, the time came for handing out presents and well wishes. The gifts were not excessive but had been chosen for the people individually, giving the proceedings a personal and affectionate touch. The household staff were very fond of their Commodore and were fiercely loyal to him; Jack Sparrow had taken a bit longer but he had wormed his way into their affections as well. There were also Christmas baskets for each member of the staff to take home to their families. Upon the completion of the gift-giving, the men and women made their farewells and departed to spend time with their families.

Their duties done, the Commodore bowed the resplendent Captain out the front door and shut it behind them, pausing only to turn the key in the lock. Ignoring the not-so subtle comment that it would not take much effort to break in, now that everyone was gone, Norrington led his friend out to the street to enter the carriage waiting to take them up to the mansion.

9


End file.
